


when i'm pipe and slippers and rocking chair

by pulsivere



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, magic stuff, spells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-03-06 21:01:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13419570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pulsivere/pseuds/pulsivere
Summary: Jace’s mouth turns into a thin line. “No one knows what to do. No one can change him back and I thought- Clary said you ought to know. She thinks you’ll help him if we ask you to.”Magnus thinks it’s kind of Jace not to mention his name. He sure doesn’t want to hear it. “And you don’t agree with her?”





	1. 1

 

**ONE**

 

> _Do you still think love is a laserquest?_

 

“You can’t keep doing this to yourself, Alec,” Jace tells him Thursday night. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other this week, which should be strange if Alec could only care enough to think about it. They live in the same place but Alec has been avoiding him like the plague. He’s been avoiding everyone like the plague, so Alec doesn’t think Jace gets to feel personally offended by it. “It’s insane.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Alec lies through his teeth. It’s a thing he’s been doing lately. The words don’t seem to want to get out of his mouth so he has to force himself to speak even when he feels like he can’t. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jace runs a hand through his hair, lets out a frustrated sigh, and says, “You’ve gone out every night this week. It’s not healthy.” He stands there, against the frame of Alec’s bedroom door, still wearing his hunting clothes and leather boots. His stele is in the pocket of his jacket, Alec can see its outline from where he’s sitting on the bed. “Izzy says you haven’t-“

“I’m okay,” Alec snaps, knee-jerk reaction. “I don’t need two babysitters to watch over me.”

Jace rolls his eyes at him. “I wouldn’t babysit you even if I got paid to do it.” He’s doing that thing Izzy does, sometimes. That look. Alec wonders if they could make it any more obvious. They stare at him like he’s got this huge wound across his chest, oozing black blood and dripping on the carpet. Alec doesn’t need their pity. He just needs them to leave him alone. “What are you going to do if you run into him, anyways?”

Alec freezes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he answers, almost daring Jace to explain himself.

Luckily, Jace doesn’t. He sighs again, this time it comes out a lot more disappointed. “Think about it, okay? We have an early training session tomorrow. Don’t stay out all night.”

Alec goes back to lacing up his boots, just like he was doing before Jace came into his room. He doesn’t even put on a jacket before making himself fit through the space Jace isn’t blocking. He makes it to the front door in record time and goes outside before anyone else can confront him about anything.

He wasn’t planning on getting hammered, but Jace seemed so against it that Alec can’t help but wonder how funny his annoyance will be in the morning. He thinks about what Jace said all the way to the club and tells himself he’s right. It’s not healthy.

Too bad Alec doesn’t care.

***

The world is ending. It has probably already ended and Alec is now suffering the aftermath of being the only survivor. There’s no way the world can go on with its day when Alec’s head hurts this way.

He tries to bury his face deeper into his pillow to drown out the light but it doesn’t seem to be working. There’s a noise coming from inside his own skull, and it sounds like a moth slamming itself into a hot lightbulb. If Alec could only find his stele then he’d draw and iratze or something to keep the pain at bay, but he can’t even think about getting up without feeling nauseous.

He remembers (he allows himself to remember now, because everything hurts anyways and what’s the point of adding another stab to his chest when it already feels like it’s going to bleed dry?) that one time they had all gone out for Clary’s birthday and he had seen a mundane boy throwing up on the curb. Alec had stared at him even as Jace had dragged him away. He couldn’t understand why anyone would put themselves through that. Booze didn’t even taste that great. Why would anyone drink and drink until they were blue in the face?  If anyone gets it now, it’s him. The sweet but short oblivion it provides. Because when he’s drunk he’s not thinking about anything. He’s not feeling anything but that dizziness, that buzzing. When Alec’s drunk he’s not missing _him_.

Jace is going to come through the door any minute now. He needs to get up, get his shit together. Alec needs to get up and go to the bathroom, brush his teeth and wash his face. Except he can’t do any of that because the world has ended, his brains are probably scattered all over the floor. Even if he could somehow manage to sober up enough to take a shower, how is he going to get through practice?

He kicks off the sweat covered sheets he’s lying on and crawls to the bathroom while trying not to puke all over the floor. Alec barely makes it to the toilet bowl when Jace, just as he had predicted, comes through the door. He can hear Jace’s footsteps, a billion times amplified by his headache, drawing closer.

“I thought I told you not to stay out all night?” Jace says. He looks blurry. Or maybe Alec’s eyes have finally abandoned him, too. “We had practice today, Alec.”

“Did I miss it already?” Alec manages to say and winces at the sound of his own voice. His mouth tastes like a dying thing crawled into it when he wasn’t looking. Alec briefly glances at the vomit in the toilet bowl and then looks away when the nausea hits him all over again.

Jace helps him up after flushing the toilet. Alec mentally goodbyes his own vomit. “No, but you will.”

Alec sits on the edge of his bed and stares at Jace like he did last night before he had headed out. He says, “’m sorry.”

“Save it,” Jace replies sharply. The words are far too loud for Alec’s brain. In fact, everything is far too loud. He can hear cars honking and people talking and it’s making his head beat like a second heart. It seems all Jace has been doing around him lately is letting out frustrated sighs. Alec can’t say he blames him. He’s pretty frustrated too. “Robert and Maryse are coming back from Idris tonight, Alec. Could you have picked a worst day to get wasted?”

Alec wants to tell him he’ll be fine by the time his parents get home, but there’s vomit making its way up his throat and he can’t do anything but crawl back to the bathroom as fast as he can. This time his throat burns so badly he’s positive he won’t be able to talk after this vomit session.

He uses the sink as support to pull himself up, but when he comes out of the bathroom Jace is nowhere to be seen. Alec knows he should go after him but he can’t even put one foot in front of the other without feeling like the room is tilting. So he does what he’s good at. He crawls back into bed and tries to ignore the foul taste in his mouth. There’s no point in brushing his teeth when he’s going to keep throwing up. Just like there’s no point in lying to Jace and saying he won’t go out again tonight.

Alec’s about to fall back asleep when Jace comes back with Isabelle in tow. He knows they’re there because he can hear them, but he doesn’t turn around to look at any of them.  He’s relaxed far too much, that’s the thing. Alec used to be secretive about going out, but ever since Jace caught him halfway out the door about month ago he hasn’t even tried to hide it. Now, with both of his siblings in his room talking way too loud, Alec realizes he should have.

“Okay, what did you drink?” Izzy asks, obviously deciding on some tough love today. “And please tell me you haven’t been going out without your stele.”

Alec doesn’t want to lie to her, so he stays quiet. When Izzy makes an impatient noise and threatens to start screaming, Alec carefully says, “I had a Gravedigger. Or two.”

Or five.

“A Grave- _Alec_ ,” Izzy scolds him. She’s pacing around the bed. Alec can hear her boots connecting with the floor and every step she takes is pure agony. “That’s what Merlion drinks sometimes. It’s not-“

Alec knows what she’s going to say next. It’s not a drink made for shadowhunters. He doesn’t want to hear it. “I think I handled it just fine,” he finds himself saying into his pillow.

Jace laughs. “I didn’t think you had it in you, Alec.”

Alec forces himself to sit up. The world has definitely not ended yet, but it might as well have. There’s way too much light coming in from the window. There’s too much of everything. “I’m fine,” he repeats, ignoring the foul taste in his mouth, ignoring his headache, ignoring the fact that his life sucks. “I’ll be fine by the time mom and dad get here. Max is coming with them, right?”

His stomach leaps when he thinks about Max seeing him like this. It’s not like the rest of his family is unaware of his misery, but they don’t know about his night escapades and Alec plans on keeping it that way. Maryse would kill him if she knew exactly the kind of clubs he has been visiting and Alec doesn’t really want to die by his mother’s hands.

“Are you listening?” Izzy asks in the distance. Alec nods, even though he hasn’t been listening. Anything to get her to stop yelling. “You’re staying here tonight.”

Alec laughs. He regrets it instantly when his brain stabs itself because of the noise. “Sure, mom.”

“Alec, we mean it. You’re not going back out there again-“

“Fine,” Alec cuts her off. He can’t keep listening to her, to Jace, to his own thoughts. He turns around and pulls the sheets over his head. “I’m going to sleep now. Don’t slam the door on your way out.”

He waits until he can’t hear them anymore to kick off the sheets and stomp to the bathroom. Just in case the vomit decides to make a sudden appearance. It doesn’t have anything to do with the fact that his bed is too big and too empty and too cold. Not at all.

***

“You again?” the faerie girl asks him, already rolling her big black eyes. She’s not annoyed, not really. Alec’s talked to her a few times before, has been forced to since she’s always the one pouring drinks. “You know, a couple of people have stopped coming here because of you.”

Alec stares at his drink. There’s something swimming in it. “People?”

“They think you’re here on some secret shadowhunter-ish mission.”

“I’m not,” Alec snorts. He looks around and is surprised when others look away quickly. “I’m just… uh, drowning my sorrows.”

She nods solemnly. “That’s what I told them. You look like shit, there’s no way you’re actually working. Or protecting. Or whatever it is you call it these days. Besides, that jacket’s way too nice for you to wear it on hunting missions.”

“Serving, that’s what it’s called,” Alec mumbles into his glass. He’s not sure she’s heard him until he looks up and finds her nodding. “There aren’t any warlocks here tonight, right? I mean, important ones. Important warlocks.”

Seelie bartender girl raises an eyebrow at him. “Like who?”

 _Like the High Warlock of Brooklyn_. “I don’t know,” Alec lies through his teeth. He’s on his second drink of the night and he’s not at the point where he feels dizzy yet. “Yes or no?”

“Maybe,” she says and turns around to pour a drink to a werewolf. At least that’s what Alec thinks the guy is. “There aren’t any in this section.”

“What do you mean?”

“You think a High Warlock is going to spend the night here? That’s why we have the VIP section,” she replies, her bony finger pointing at the top floor. Alec feels her hand closing in around his wrist. “But there’s no way a shadowhunter can get in.”

Alec’s lips feel numb. “Why not?”

She ties her hair up in a ponytail. Red, like Clary’s. “Because it’s not a place for shadowhunters to be. Especially those who aren’t here on the Clave business.”

Alec nods and fights off the anticipation building inside of him. He’s waited this long to talk to Magnus, to see him again, another fifteen minutes won’t make a difference. So Alec drinks another Gravedigger and tops it with two shots of some gooey looking stuff the guy next to him was drinking. By the time he’s finished the second one Alec can no longer feel the pressure on his chest or hear the words of the song that’s playing. He slips off his booth and walks to the stairs that connect the dancefloor with the VIP section.

The bouncer is an angry looking ghoul. They’re not too smart, Alec knows, which is why he feels so bad knocking him out. He also knows he only has about five minutes before all hell breaks loose and he’s kicked out. The faerie girl didn’t even say there was a warlock in the club, but she also didn’t say there wasn’t. The hope in Alec’s chest seems to expand with every breath he takes as he jumps three steps at a time.

If he could only see him. Alec doesn’t even want to make a scene. He knows Magnus doesn’t want to see him. Alec understands, but Magnus never said anything about Alec seeing him. Alec should be able to see him just once more, even from a distance, even from the shadows of a sweaty and weird club. Alec just wants…

“Get him out of here,” Alec hears someone hiss from somewhere behind him. “Get him out!”

Alec feels someone fisting the back of his jacket, tugging at it so violently he falls to the floor on his ass. It doesn’t hurt now, but it will in the morning. Along with the headache that will sure follow. He lets himself be dragged backwards because the whole VIP section has gotten up to stare at him, and Alec just wants to see if Magnus is there, if Magnus knows he came here to find him, if Magnus-

Alec’s hand goes to find his bow but he remembers he didn’t take it with him. Why would he? He even left his stele at the Institute. The bouncer’s hand finds the back of his head and presses it to the grimy floor. Alec can barely make out all the faces in the crowd staring down at him like he’s an insect ready to be stepped on. The ghoul manages to drag him down the stairs and across the dancefloor. Alec waits to be kicked outside like a dog, but before opening the backdoor the ghoul’s huge fist connects with his jaw. And _then_ he’s out of the club.

He’s pretty sure his jaw is broken or dislocated or just plain crushed. It certainly feels crushed. Alec would draw an iratze over it if he had his stele on him, but he doesn’t and the pain plus the last two Gravediggers of the night are already threatening to pull him to sleep right on the street.

He could call Jace. He could call Izzy. Hell, he could even call his parents. But when Alec closes his eyes and imagines them all sound asleep, thinking he’s in his room like he said he’d be, he can’t bring himself to call them. There’s only one person he wants to call and ask to come get him, but that person isn’t going to pick up the phone.

So Alec tells himself he’s fine, because he is, and that he’ll wait until the nausea passes to walk back to the Institute. He rests his head against the brick wall and closes his eyes. Tonight was the last night, he promises himself before darkness wins him over, tonight was the last straw.

***

“Alec?” Jace frowns. He has just rolled out of bed, Alec can tell by the way his hair looks. He hasn’t even put on his training gloves yet. “What are you- it’s five in the morning.”

Alec shrugs. He goes back to slamming his fists against the punching bag. “I woke up half an hour ago and decided to make up for last week.”

Jace is eyeing him up and down. Alec ignores him, or at least tries to. “By the way your knuckles look you’ve been here far more than half an hour.”

Alec hits the punching bag one more time before examining his hands. His knuckles are an angry shade of red, bruises already starting to bloom under his skin, but it’s nothing an iratze won’t be able to fix. “An hour then, I guess.”

“Alright,” Jace says. There’s not enough worry in his voice to make Alec feel annoyed, so he lets this one go. “Want to fight?”

“Okay,” Alec says, still flexing his fingers. He tries to call them into fists, but they aren’t being too responsive. “Why are you here so early, anyways?”

Jace’s fist is only four inches from Alec’s face. He dodges one Alec’s hits and says, “Wanted to work up a sweat.”

Alec snorts. “Demon hunting isn’t as adrenaline inducing?” he asks. They are both being careful not to actually hit each other. Alec doesn’t think his stomach could take a punch after last night.

“There hasn’t been a single call this month,” Jace says. “I’m so bored I’d call Robert myself to get some action.”

Punch, dodge, repeat. “’Hey man, I’m a demon and I’m uh, hunting’, that’s what you’d say,” Alec jokes although he doesn’t even think it’s funny. It’s been a while since he’s honestly laughed about something.

Jace laughs for both of them. “Yeah, something like that. Although I’d actually sound convincing while doing it. Minus the hand gestures.”

“I don’t talk with my hands-“

“You do,” Jace says, taking a moment to breathe. “And you also talk really sl _ooo_ w.”

Alec’s getting ready to hit Jace with his water bottle when Isabelle comes into the practice room. She’s still in her pajamas. He’s surprised about it until he remember it’s probably around six in the morning.

“We’ve been invited to lunch with the Seelie Queen,” she announces, already going to grab her favorite belt from one of the racks. “Apparently there’s something she wants us to know.”

“And she couldn’t just, I don’t know, send it in a letter?”

Having lunch is just a euphemism. Spending the whole day trapped with the seelie court is not what Alec had in mind. He pretends to be excited about it when Jace turns to look at him, but there’s nothing but dread filling him up as the seconds go by. He doesn’t draw an iratze over his knuckles and tells himself it’s because there’s no time to do so, but he knows the truth. It feels good to feel something besides that dread, even if it’s the itchiness of sore skin.

If Jace or Izzy notice they don’t say anything about it. Alec’s glad, he’s not sure what he’d say if they asked him about it.

***

He should have covered it up. He should have drawn the stupid iratze. He should have worn fucking gloves. Alec’s so stupid he’s surprised he hasn’t gotten himself killed yet. Of course the Seelie Queen was going to ask him about it and of course she’d know if he was lying. So now Alec’s standing in front of her, all eyes on him, trying to come up with something, anything, to get him off the spotlight.

“I was in a rush to get here,” Alec finds himself saying. He’s not sure why he says it, it’s clear he’s lying. “I must have forgotten.”

The Seelie Queen’s blue eyes never leave his. She hasn’t looked at Jace or Izzy at all, although they had been the ones talking until now. Her crown looks much bigger than Alec remembers it to be, but maybe he’s just imagining things. His mind likes to play tricks on him when he’s nervous. The fact that her red hair seems to move on its own account is not helping the situation at all.

She lets out a sigh. It sounds a lot like Jace’s. “Are you not curious as to why you’re standing here today?” she asks, but leaves no room for answers. “Curiosity tends to lead your kind into all sorts of dreadful situations, wouldn’t you agree?”

Even though she wasn’t talking to Jace, it’s he who answers. “We’re all more than curious about it, my lady. So it’d be nice if you could-“

“Jonathan,” she says, still looking at Alec. It’s freaking him out a bit but there’s nothing he can do about it, so he tries his best not to let the panic he’s feeling show on his face. “There was no need for you to come. It was the Lightwood boy who I needed to speak with. I’m afraid your curiosity is not a concern of mine.”

Jace’s face hardens. He says, “I don’t think-“

“You have something that belongs to me,” the queen says easily. Her voice cuts Jace’s angry speech in half. “That is why I have summoned you here today.”

Alec’s throat closes up. His brain tries to come up with some sort of explanation. He’s about to accuse her of lying, but then he remembers that her kind can’t lie. It only makes fear bite harder at him.

“I don’t- I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lady,” he says. This is the first time he’s seen the Seelie Queen in years. “Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding-“

Her blue eyes glimmer with excitement. “You will be asked to stay here until you’ve returned that which belongs to me.” She says it as casually as one would comment on the weather.

Isabelle tries to reason with her. “There’s no way Alec has anything that belongs to you or any other faerie. He doesn’t associate with-“

“Downworlders?” she hums, clearly entertained by the situation. Her smile makes Alec’s knees buckle. "So I have been told. I cannot say I was surprised when the news arrived. Warlocks can be quite difficult to manage, don’t you agree Alexander?”

Alec doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what she wants from him, but it’s clear that he’s not here just to return something. The Seelie Queen’s words are not to be taken lightly. When she speaks, the words that leave her mouth have been carefully picked and thought about. She’s not rambling about Magnus Bane, Alec knows, she’s building up the tension in the room. It’s going to explode any second now, and she’s enjoying every second of it.

He regrets choosing to stand so far away from his siblings now. Panic is rising inside of him and there’s no one close enough to calm him down with a touch. The irrational thought that if he had only healed his knuckles before he left the Institute this wouldn’t be happening pops up inside his head for a second.

“I’ll give it back, whatever it is,” Alec says, trying to sound calm even though he already feels like he’s suffocating. “I just don’t know what you mean. I didn’t take-“

She points one of her skinny fingers at him, the nail glittery and green. “You have it, though.”

“Let’s say he does have it,” Jace edges closer to where Alec’s standing. He sounds calmer than Alec, but still stressed out. “Perhaps he left it at the Institute. If you would allow us to leave and look for it-“

Her red hair moves as if a gust of wind has entered the room. It hasn’t. “You two are free to do as you please, but Alexander Lightwood is to stay here, in my court, until he returns what isn’t his.”

“We’re not leaving our brother,” Isabelle snaps. Her temper gets the best of her, always has. “The Clave will not tolerate-“

“The Clave,” the Seelie Queen laughs, or so it seems to Alec. So do some of the faeries gathered around her. “How long do you think it will take for the Clave to start a war over a boy? Perhaps… a century or two?”

“My lady,” Alec asks, his voice as wobbly as his legs feel. “If you could tell me what it was that, uh, you have lost… then maybe I would be able to find it faster.”

“You needn’t know what it is to look for it,” she replies, her eyes and voice as icy as before.

“How is he supposed to give it back if he doesn’t know what it is in the first place?” Isabelle speaks up again. “You won’t even let him go home to look for it.”

The Seelie Queen looks like she had been waiting for Isabelle to say that. It’s clear in the way an amused grin spreads across her face. When she talks again, Alec is reminded of how careful faeries are with their words. “It must be tiring for you to look after him all the time. He is, after all, the oldest of the three, is he not?”

“Why does that matter? We would care for him even if he was ten years older than us.” Jace’s hand goes to his dagger, but the queen remains unbothered. “Let us go back to the Institute. You have our word what we will return when we find what you’re missing.”

“Your word is not enough,” she concludes. “But you will come back, I am sure, otherwise you’ll have to look after him until the day he dies.”

“What does that mean?”

The Queen toys with her hair for a second. “He will go with you,” she says, not looking at any of them. “But under one condition.”

Alec’s heart stops and starts again. This time is he who wonders out loud, “my lady, I swear there is no need for this. I promise-“

“You’ll go as you once were,” the Seelie Queen cuts him off. She has gotten up from her throne and is walking towards him. Jace and Izzy try to move, but she holds her hand up in their direction, as if to stop them. “And only when you return what is mine will you be as you are now.”

“Please,” Alec lets out a strangled sound. It does not sound like his voice at all. It’s fear talking, not him. “Please, I-“

She walks up to him, her face inches from his. She smells like the forest after a thunderstorm. It makes the hairs on the back of Alec’s hair rise. She leans in, like she’s about to kiss him, but goes for his ear instead. “Love will ripen you, Alexander. If you can find it, that is.”

Alec opens his mouth to beg her one more time but all that comes out is gurgling sound. That’s the last thing he hears before he feels her cold wet hands on his eyes and her sickly sweet breath blowing all the lights out.


	2. 2

**TWO**

 

Magnus wouldn’t have opened the door wearing nothing but his boxer shorts if he had known who was standing on the other side. In fact, Magnus wouldn’t have opened the door at all, period. His fingers go numb around the doorknob and his hand feels sweaty against the metal, yet Magnus doesn’t pull it away. It’s a reflex, almost. He wants to slam the door shut in his face, but Magnus is a polite person. He’s not going to be the bitter end this time.

“Long time no see,” Magnus says. He doesn’t have to try hard to come across as nonchalant. He doesn’t have to work to give the impression he doesn’t care about whatever he has to say. Because Magnus is over it. He’s so over it that he can stand there in nothing but his boxers and not panic. He doesn’t have to cross his arms over his chest because it feels like his heart is being burned. Magnus doesn’t care anymore. “What’s wrong, shadowhunter? Let me guess, someone got hurt and your new, _official_ , warlock wasn’t available, so you require my amazing services at the Institute again.”

Time has been kind to Jace. A year is a lot for mortals, Magnus knows this, and he can’t help but marvel in the slight changes Jace is showing. He has the faintest shade of a stubble, like he did a poor job shaving this morning, and his hair looks longer, a lighter color. His eyes seem unfocused, but then again, when did Jace pay attention to anything that wasn’t himself?

Jace’s mouth turns into a thin line. “No one knows what to do. No one can change him back and I thought- Clary said you ought to know. She thinks you’ll help him if we ask you to.”

Magnus thinks it’s kind of Jace not to mention his name. He sure doesn’t want to hear it. “And you don’t agree with her?”

For the first time since Magnus has met him, Jace hesitates. It’s clear he wants to be angry at Magnus, wants to push all the guilt on his plate, but he can’t afford to offend Magnus if he’s in such desperate need of his help. Magnus refuses to let the worry he’s feeling show on his face. It’s been a year, he’s over it. Still, the endless possibilities dance in front of his eyes like a horror movie. Change him back from what? What have they made of him?

“Will you help us or not?” Jace settles for snapping at him. “Do I have to beg you now?”

Magnus dresses himself up with a clap, only for the dramatic effect it has, and then grabs his spell book from the coffee table, right where he left it last night. Just in case. “Lead the way, then.”

Jace doesn’t move an inch. “Uh… Actually, we don’t need you at the Institute.”

“But I thought you said…”

“Izzy’s downstairs with him,” Jace says. He seems relieved Magnus said he’d help. “I’ll call her and tell her to… bring him here.”

Magnus’s heart doesn’t skip a beat at that. He cares because Alexander is a person. Magnus isn’t a psychopath, of course he doesn’t want him to suffer just because. The fact that he’s being brought rather than just being accompanied makes him wonder how fucked up the situation really is. Then again, it’s fine, Magnus is fine, everything is just fine.

Jace puts his hands up the second they both hear Izzy’s heels hitting each step of the stairs to Magnus’s loft. Magnus tries to listen to the second pair of footsteps, Alexander’s, but there isn’t one. “Don’t freak out,” Jace warns him. “Or you’ll freak him out.”

Magnus prepares himself for the worst. He’s not sure what the worst case scenario is for situations like this, involving Alexander, but he finds himself hoping he’s at least alive, that Izzy isn’t just carrying a corpse.

He doesn’t get it at first. His brain goes to the obvious, tries to solve the equation as fast as it can, but something isn’t adding up. Last time Magnus saw Isabelle Lightwood was fourteen months ago. She could have gotten pregnant during that time and had a kid, but there’s no way that kid can be as old as the one she’s holding in her arms right now.

It dawns on him, then. That’s not Isabelle and Simon’s kid. It’s Alexander.

“I-“

Isabelle shushes him furiously. “I just got him to fall asleep,” she whispers. “He refused to take a nap earlier.”

Magnus opens his mouth and closes it again. He can’t see Alexander’s face because it’s buried in his sister’s neck, but he could recognize that messy black hair anywhere. He’s not wearing shoes, just a pair of bright red socks. His feet are tiny, even smaller than Magnus’s hand. He can’t be older than five years old.

“Do you still have a couch?” Izzy asks him in a hushed voice. Magnus nods dumbly and lets them all come inside. When she walks past him Magnus notices the way Alexander is holding on to her neck. His fingers are chubby and short, nothing like the long ones Magnus used to intertwine his with. Isabelle’s cut her hair, Magnus notices too, and she looks better than last time he saw her. Healthier.

She puts Alexander down on the couch and doesn’t move until she’s sure he’s still asleep. Magnus tries to peek at the kid, but he curls up on the couch into a tiny ball. His face is hidden once more from view as he buries it in one of Magnus’s favorite pillows.

“Thank you for agreeing to help us,” Isabelle tells him, switching back to her normal tone of voice, once they are out of earshot from the child. Even though he’s confused beyond anything, Magnus can still hear the dryness in her voice when she addresses him. It reminds him of Maryse Lightwood. “Did Jace explain-“

“He _didn’t_ ,” Magnus cuts her off. It was one thing to go back to the Institute and try to help them there, but this? He can’t believe they are both standing in front of him, inside of his house, and that Alexander is in the other room. But it’s not really Alexander, Magnus has to remind himself, it’s a child. In his house. “What happened?”

Jace puts his hand on Isabelle’s shoulder, like he’s trying to hold her back, and says, “He was cursed.”

Magnus suppresses the urge to roll his eyes at Jace. “I can see that.”

“We went to the Seelie court last week to discuss… something. The Seelie Queen thought it’d be amusing, it seems.” Jace rubs his face in frustration. “We’ve taken him everywhere, we’ve read all the books in the Institute about de-aging. _Nothing_. There’s just nothing.”

“Fairies don’t do things just because, Jonathan.” Magnus puts down his spell book. He had almost forgotten he was holding it. “If the Seelie Queen cursed him, it was for a reason. She must be trying to prove a point.”

The two of them share a look. Isabelle is the first one to crack. “She might have said something.”

“Well,” Magnus says after a moment of silence. “What did she say?”

Jace intercedes. “It was a long conversation. What’s important is that she has agreed to turn him back once we return something to her. The problem is we don’t know what it is. And Alec…”

“Alec was the one who had it,” Izzy picks up. “And he’s… he doesn’t… She said it’s the only thing that will make him grow up.”

“I have a hard time believing the Seelie Queen would use the expression _growing up_ ,” Magnus says. They’re both starting to annoy him. It’s been too long since he’s been around Shadowhunters and he’d almost forgotten how tiring they can be. “I need to know exactly what she said if I’m going to break the curse.”

“She said something along the lines of true love and maturing,” Isabelle says slowly, like she’s testing Magnus. “It sounded more poetic coming from her mouth, but that’s it.”

Magnus’s heart skips a beat this time. He can’t help it. Stupid heart, it should know better by now. “Is that why you brought him here, to me?”

“No,” Jace snaps. He ignores the look Isabelle’s giving him. “Even if something as idiotic as true love existed you’re not it for him. Trust me, I would know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Magnus asks before he can help himself. If he concentrates hard enough he can hear the soft snores coming from the couch. He sounds like a small cat. Magnus ignores all the fondness that’s being stirred up in him.

“You’re not together anymore, haven’t been for a year. We know you’re not his true love, whatever that means,” Isabelle explains. “But you _are_ the High Warlock of Brooklyn. If anyone can break the spell it’s you.”

Magnus can’t remember the last time he spared Jace and Izzy a thought in the last months. It’s weird how life turns around. Even after being alive for so long life continues to amaze Magnus.  “I could be the High Warlock of the World and I still wouldn’t be able to lift this curse off him. The Seelie Queen’s magic is different from mine.”

Isabelle’s lower lip quivers slightly. “Are you saying you can’t help him?”

Magnus looks away. “I’m sorry.”

“What happens if we can’t break this curse? Will he grow up on his own?” Jace demands to know. His hands are white and shaky.

“He’ll never grow up,” Magnus says simply. It is what it is. He can’t let himself acknowledge that this is Alexander he’s talking about. If he does then all hell will break loose. “He will die a child.”

The three of them stand in silence for a while, all listening to the sleepy sounds coming from the couch in the living room.

“Although I suppose I could pay the Seelie Queen a visit myself,” Magnus says after a second. “She was a friend of mine, a long time ago. Perhaps she’ll be willing to listen to me.”

“Thank you,” Isabelle says. Magnus can’t help but wonder what she thinks of him now, what has Alexander told her, if she blames Magnus for the way things turned out. She seems honestly grateful. “When will you go see her?”

“Tomorrow, first thing in the morning. I…” Magnus clears his throat. It’s pathetic, how uncomfortable they make him. It’s been a year. “I’ll need to bring him with me.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” Jace rubs his eyes with the back of his hand. “We’ll bring him here tomorrow then.”

Isabelle frowns, says, “Actually, I’m not sure we can do that. We have a meeting with Luke’s pack, remember?”

“We’ll drop Alec off here and then go meet them. Problem solved.”

“Jace,” Isabelle tries to reason, “the meeting is being held in the middle of the woods, up north. It’s a two hour drive.”

“You can let him sleep here,” Magnus blurts out. He can feel the start of a headache forming. “It’s not like he doesn’t know who I am.”

“He doesn’t,” Jace says. “That’s the problem. He doesn’t know who any of us are. It’s like he wasn’t just de aged. He really _is_ five year old Alec. Last thing he remembers is Isabelle as a baby.”

“Then I’ll just tell him I’m his new magical babysitter,” Magnus says. He’s running out of things to say, out of ways to trap them into staying. He just wants to have Alexander to himself for a minute. This Alexander offers no collateral damage. There’s no way he remembers the nasty fights, the break-up, the aftermath. This is an Alexander as pure as Magnus is ever going to get him. “It’s ten p.m. It’s only a couple of hours until morning, I think I can handle a four year old Shadowhunter.”

“No,” Jace says. His voice is sharp, but it doesn’t come across as menacing. If anything, Magnus wants to laugh. How dare him put all the blame and disappointment in Magnus’s plate? He wasn’t the only one having dinner. “He’s not going to spend the night here with you.”

Magnus blinks at him. “You came here asking for my help-“

“I said no, Bane. Leave it alone,” Jace tells him warningly.

“Do you think I would hurt him?” Magnus can’t help but ask out loud. He had thought Jace knew better.

Isabelle puts her hand on Jace’s shoulder, like she’s trying to keep him from biting Magnus’s head off. “Can’t you go to the Seelie court the day after tomorrow?” she asks instead. “That way Jace and I could go with you.”

Magnus stares at them for a while. He refuses to feel hurt over their lack of trust, he can’t blame them for it. He doesn’t really trust them either, even after all this time. Regret goes through him. He should have asked who it was before opening the door this morning.

“Tomorrow marks the beginning of the Seelie’s festivities. I doubt the Queen will be able to receive me after that.” Magnus wants to roll his eyes at them, at their ignorance, at their lack of respect for any tradition that doesn’t revolve around angels. “You could always go by yourselves. I’m sure she-“

“We tried to go back,” Isabelle says briskly. “It didn’t go well.”

Magnus wonders how many options they explored before they even considered coming to him. That only sparks up his anger. They are asking him to help but they won’t let the kid sleep at his place. It’s just bizarre.

“You either let him spend the night here or I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else to help him.”

Jace snorts. “Right. Like you’re so willing to help him anyways.”

“Excuse me? He _is_ sleeping in my living room right now, isn’t he?” Magnus snaps.

“Jace,” Isabelle starts to say calmly. Her hand is still gripping his shoulder. “He’ll have to stay the night. It’s the only way.”

He shakes her hand off. “This is not what Alec would want.”

It’s been a year but that comment makes Magnus’s body freeze. He hadn’t thought about it that way. The fact that maybe Alexander despises him so much that he would never choose to spend another night in this place, with Magnus, had never crossed his mind.

He manages to shrug through the numbness, somehow. “Your call.”

Jace looks like he wants to protest, but Isabelle decides to call it a night. They settle for waking Alexander up before they go, because they don’t want him to feel scared and alone in a place he’s never been in (he has, Magnus thinks over and over again as they go back to the living room; he’s been in this room, in this loft, on that same couch, a million times before).

Alexander has moved in his sleep. Magnus can see his face now, which only makes his stomach drop lower and his head hurt more. He’s sucking on his thumb, something Magnus would have found adorable a year ago. However, three hundred and sixty-five days later, Magnus refuses to be moved by the scene in front of him. This is his ex-boyfriend, who’s been turned into a child. There’s nothing heartwarming about it.

Everything about him is little. His nose, his mouth, his chubby fingers. He looks so much like eighteen year old Alexander that Magnus has to look away after a while. It’s been twelve months. Magnus is over it.

“Just say he’s a family friend,” Jace murmurs. “Or a friend of a friend.”

Isabelle is gentle when she wakes him up. She doesn’t just shake him like Magnus thoughts she might. Her hand looks soft on Alexander’s tiny shoulder. “Wake up,” she sing-songs. Magnus wonders if that’s how her parents used to wake her up in the morning. Somehow, it’s hard to imagine Robert and Maryse Lightwood doing such a thing. “It’s time to wake up, sleepy head.”

Alexander’s eyes fly open at the sound of her voice. They’re just as blue as Magnus remembers them. He sits up on the couch and gazes up at them with his hands clasped on his lap. He looks so much like himself Magnus has a hard time processing it.

“You’re going to stay here for the night bud,” Isabelle tells him. “Magnus is a really good friend of mine and he’s going to take you to a place tomorrow that will fix you right up, okay?”

Alexander doesn’t protest. He barely looks at Magnus with the two of them in the room. “You’ll stay too?” he worries and that’s it- that’s all Magnus can take before he goes crazy. His voice is nothing like Alexander’s. It’s squeaky and childlike and just wrong. Magnus can’t shake the feeling of strangeness that surges through him. He had told himself he would know that voice anywhere, but he doesn’t anymore. “And Jace?”

“No Alec,” Jace says softly. Magnus doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jace use that tone. “But we’ll be back in the morning to pick you up. We can go practice after that. How does that sound?”

Alexander scrunches up his nose in defiance. “But-“

“Magnus has a lot of games,” Isabelle cuts in. She looks at Magnus with wide, pleading eyes. “Don’t you Magnus?”

Magnus sighs and nods. It’s been a long time since he’s been around children, but he’ll manage to entertain this one just fine. He doesn’t have to think too much about whether or not this Alexander will like glittery things. Magnus opens and closes his hand in the air until specks of light appear, like a snow of glitter. However, Alexander doesn’t look too impressed.

“I want to go home,” he whines. Magnus wants to snort. “With you.”

“Be nice,” Isabelle tells him sternly, like a mother would do. She walks to the door with Jace and rubs her face with tired hands. Alexander has scrambled up from the couch and followed them. “You’ll have fun, I promise. It’ll be over in the morning.”

Alexander doesn’t trust her. He goes to follow them outside of Magnus’s loft but Jace stops him. He whispers something in Alexander’s ear that has him nodding and walking back to Magnus with his head down. Magnus is too distracted by his tiny feet to notice Jace and Isabelle leaving. Everything is just bizarre.

“Okay,” Magnus says and closes the door. He doesn’t look at Alexander. He doesn’t notice the way his head barely comes up to Magnus’s hips. He doesn’t notice him struggling to hide his fear. Magnus wonders when his life became such a shit show and then concludes it must have been around the time he met this shadowhunter. “Alright. I’m going to make you dinner. And then, uh. We’re going to sleep.”

Alexander doesn’t say anything, which only makes Magnus feel worse. This is so wrong. Magnus hadn’t thought this through. What is he doing, taking care of his de-aged ex-boyfriend? What is Magnus doing?

“Do you like P&J sandwiches kid?” Magnus asks. He’s not going to be weird about this. He’ll just ignore the fact that this is Alexander Lightwood, five years old and wearing pj’s. Magnus goes into the kitchen, Alexander trailing behind him without uttering a word, so he takes the silence as a yes. “Of course you do. Who doesn’t?”

Magnus makes the sandwiches appear next to a tall glass of water because he knows –and hates himself for it- how much Alexander hates sugary drinks. However, Alexander seems reluctant to join him at the table.

“What’s wrong?” Magnus asks, refusing to feel self-conscious over a kid. “Do you like mac and cheese better?”

Alexander is looking at his feet, which are insanely tiny, and playing with the hem of his shirt. A shirt that probably belongs to Max, judging by how loose it looks on him.

“You’re a warlock,” Alexander says. He states it so clearly Magnus has a hard time believing this kid in front of him is really a kid. “My father says-“

Magnus knows what’s coming next and he doesn’t need to hear it. If he wanted to hear Alexander ramble about what Robert Lightwood says and doesn’t say about warlocks he would still be Alexander’s boyfriend. But Magnus isn’t, hasn’t been for a year, and he doesn’t have to listen to this if he doesn’t want to.

“Your father doesn’t know anything,” Magnus finds himself snapping. “And he’s not here either, so watch what you say about downworlderls in my house.”

Alexander looks taken aback. He doesn’t cry or yell at Magnus, though. He looks… exactly like Alexander would look like when Magnus snapped at him during an argument. There’s just more calm and coldness. He sits on the opposite side of the table, as far as he can to get away from Magnus, and eats the sandwich that gets passed over to him.

“I’m sorry,” Magnus breaks first, of course he does. He always did back then, when they would fight more than they would laugh, and Magnus would come home tired and snappy. But he would always apologize first, too. “Your dad and I… we don’t get along very much, but he’s a… good shadowhunter.”

Alexander doesn’t look up from his plate. Magnus watches him in awe holding the sandwich up, his hands chubby and small. “Izzy said I know you,” Alexander says instead of acknowledging Magnus’s apology. His words aren’t slurred. “Did Jace get you out of trouble once?”

Magnus blinks at him. It’s strange hearing him talk so maturely, but then again Magnus supposes Alexander got a good education and private lessons since he was able to walk. The fact that he thinks Jace saved the day for poor downworlder Magnus makes his blood boil. Shadowhunters are brats from the moment they are born.

“No,” Magnus says, picking his words carefully. “I saved you both from trouble. On multiple occasions.”

Alexander doesn’t look like he believes him, but he doesn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he focuses on eating his sandwich. It creeps Magnus out, how careful he’s being so as nothing falls to the floor or dirties his clothes.

Magnus looks away after a while. It’s only making him angrier. This Alexander doesn’t remember Magnus, he doesn’t remember hurting Magnus, he wasn’t the one who hurt Magnus and screwed up the whole thing that was going on between them. Well, he is the same person, but it’s not- Magnus doesn’t want to be angry at a kid. Even if that kid took his heart out of his chest and stomped on it with his stupid combat boots. No. Magnus is not upset with a kid.

“Do you want to play a game?” Magnus asks when he sees Alexander pushing his empty plate away. Guilt is eating up at him. He shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. Someone has to be the bigger man, and since one of them has been turned into a kid then Magnus supposed the task only applies to him.

Alexander looks up from his plate. “What kind of game?”

“A fun one,” Magnus sticks out his tongue at him, trying to make Alexander laugh but getting a frown in response. “What do you like to play back home?”

“Games,” Alexander answers, giving him a sly smile. Magnus feels his heart tugging at him. “Jace and I play chase.”

“Chase?”

Alexander frowns in concentration. Magnus has to look away for a second, because it’s getting too much. “I chase him,” he finally says, trying to explain himself. “He usually wins.”

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Is there anything he sucks at, besides feelings?”

The kid pouts. The real Alexander used to do that all the time to get Magnus to do things. He knew it worked like flicking on a light switch, something quick and easy he could do to brighten Magnus up. “That’s mean,” he settles for, quietly. “He… he doesn’t win when we play board games.”

“Oh?”

“He gets bored,” Alexander shrugs. “Can you… um, can you do the bright thing again?”

Magnus is at a loss. “What thing?”

Alexander’s chubby hands move awkwardly in the air, trying to imitate what he had seen Magnus do earlier. That’s when Magnus understands what he means. The glitter rain. Magnus complies.

He lets himself enjoy it this time, clearly relieved that Jace and Izzy aren’t here to watch him. “Thank you,” he says politely.

“What kind of board games do you and Jace play?” Magnus asks after a while. He can’t help but laugh when Alexander answers with a yawn. He yawns exactly like he did when he had just woken up in Magnus’s bed, back when they were still-

No. Magnus can’t think about that right now. He has a kid he has to focus on. There’s no room for his feelings tonight. Or ever.

“Maybe we should call it a night, huh?” Magnus doesn’t get a reply. He sighs and gets up, ignoring the bored look Alexander is giving him. No kid likes bedtime, Alexander seems to be no different. “You’re going to sleep in my room, okay? I’ll take the couch.”

His eyes go insanely big when Magnus shows him his bedroom. Alexander stands very still, although from the way his tiny feet are fidgeting Magnus can tell he’s itchy to get into bed.

“You can jump on the bed as long as you don’t fall off of it,” Magnus warns him. He’s not done talking when Alexander rushes to the king sized bed and starts trying to climb on it. It’s too high for him, so Magnus helps him up with a bit of magic.

Alexander turns to look at him, a shy smile on his face. Magnus sighs. It’s going to be a long night.

***

Magnus is either a goner or a complete idiot. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be carrying a sleeping five year old kid, who so happens to be his ex-boyfriend, all the way to the park so they can meet with the Seelie Queen to negotiate the removal of the curse that’s troubling him.

Last night was one of the craziest nights of Magnus’s existence. He had spent at least an hour watching a giggling Alexander jump on his bed. Then he had given into his requests and made glitter rain all over the room.  However, Magnus had to say Alexander was fairly easy to deal with. He was as shy as Magnus remembered him to be when they had just met. He had even fallen asleep without Magnus having to nag him about it.

When the morning came it was even harder for Magnus to wake him up, especially since it was so early in the morning and they had both gone to sleep so late. So Magnus gave in and decided to carry him, still sleeping, to meet with the Seelie Queen.  It had been a stupid idea, Magnus knew this, but now it didn’t seem so bad.

He has Alexander on his hip, his mouth slightly open, which makes Magnus smile. He’s always been a mouth breather. Hopefully, he’ll sleep through this whole thing. Maybe Magnus will put him to sleep again once –if, if, if- the Seelie Queen has changed him back. It’ll be less painful that way. Magnus is over it, it’s been a year. But that doesn’t mean he wants to make this harder than it has to be.

Alexander’s right hand is holding on tightly to Magnus’s silky shirt. Tight enough that it’ll be wrinkled when he lets go of it. Magnus has pried his other hand away from his mouth at least five times since they’ve left the loft, but it seems Alexander likes to chew on his thumb while he sleeps. He’s stubborn about it, too.

Magnus finds himself rubbing the kid’s back and stops as soon as he realizes what he’s doing. This isn’t _any_ child, this isn’t _a_ child. It’s Alexander Lightwood. Magnus should know better by now. It’s been a goddamn year.

“You acted like an asshole,” Magnus tells him, because he knows Alexander is asleep and will never remember this conversation. “A self-centered, stupid and mean asshole. And so did I.” He walks down a path that’s been covered with glamour so the mundanes can’t see it. “You’re just so- Ugh.”

“Magnus Bane,” a tiny girl with the longest black hair Magnus has ever seen steps into view. “The Queen has been waiting for you.”

“Has she?” Magnus holds Alexander tighter, who doesn’t open his eyes at all. “I brought… a friend with me, I hope she doesn’t mind.”

The girl smiles, kind of. “She was hoping you’d bring him, too.”

Magnus sighs. He really shouldn’t have opened the door yesterday.


	3. 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a short chapter, but only because the next one is a bit longer than usual. Thanks for reading!

THREE

 

“Fancy something to eat?” the Seelie Queen asks. “The child must be hungry.”

The whole place looks the most festive Magnus has ever seen it. There are flowers of all kinds, magical and not, covering every inch of the room. The Queen herself is wearing a different type of dress. Her hair is down, but flowers seem to have bloomed from the roots of it. She looks ecstatic to see Magnus walk in.

“We’re fine,” Magnus says easily. He decides he has to play along with whatever sick game she has come up with. Magnus is very good at games. “You look absolutely ravishing.”

She moves her hand in the air lazily. “It didn’t take you long to come,” she says, ignoring his words. Her eyes are as blue as the ocean. Magnus has a hard time looking away. “I thought it would be weeks before I saw Alexander Lightwood again, yet you surprise me with your presence. The High Warlock of Brooklyn still has time left to care for those who don’t need his protection.”

It’s an interesting choice of words. It sounds like a recrimination, but the Queen is far too smart to let her true intentions shine through. Magnus’s arms are growing numb, but he doesn’t want to wake Alexander up. The Queen must see he’s uncomfortable because she motions for someone in her court to bring him a chair. Magnus is reluctant about sitting down, but his arms will give out if he doesn’t.

“His siblings were apprehensive about the whole situation,” Magnus says. Alexander’s gone back to sucking his thumb in his sleep. “They were hoping a Queen as kind as you are beautiful would…“

The Queen tilts her head to the side, like an interested bird. “He has something that belongs to me. And he will not age another day until he returns it.” She leans forward, as if to get a better look at Alexander. Magnus’s arms tighten around him. “Why are you here, Magnus Bane?”

The question baffles Magnus. “You summoned me last week. I brought Alexander with me because his siblings came to me for help.”

“It surprises me,” she says, although she does not look surprised. “Birds sing songs and the wind carries them. The news of your separation reached my ears a while ago.”

Magnus’s old heart doesn’t stutter at her words. It doesn’t. “We remained friends,” he lies. “I don’t think Jonathan and Isabelle understand the real motive behind this curse. Jonathan mentioned something about true love.”

The Queen stares at him, not blinking once. “There is no such thing as true love.”

“We both know that, my lady,” Magnus replies. The court is all looking his way, which makes him feel even more anxious. “Perhaps they misunderstood your words.”

“Wake him up,” she commands, like she has grown tired of talking to Magnus. “I would like to examine my work.”

Magnus imagines Alexander’s horrified face if his eyes land on the Queen and her court. He won’t put the kid through that just to fulfill her petty requests. This Alexander has never been demon hunting or had lessons about faeries. If the Queen has the power to make Magnus feel uncomfortable he can’t imagine what she would do to Alexander’s young mind.

“He is very tired,” Magnus says. There’s a moment of silence before Alexander starts to squirm in Magnus’s arms. It’s slightly comforting to think he won’t remember anything when this is all over. Magnus will make sure of that. His snores are threatening to make Magnus laugh. “I’m afraid it took him longer than usual to fall asleep.”

She does not seem happy with his answer. “I turned him into a child, not a newborn. You are spoiling him.” There’s a faint sound of music coming from somewhere in the distance. Even though Magnus thinks she’s about to repeat her order, she questions him again. “Why do you think I summoned you here?”

“I cannot answer that, my lady,” Magnus says slowly, making sure Alexander’s face is hidden from view, “However, I think this could be over in a second if you would allow him to be himself again. I know Alexander,” Magnus’s voice doesn’t strain, it doesn’t. “He is not a thief.”

The Queen’s mouth turns into a thin line. “He is no thief,” she agrees. “Yet that does not change anything. Let us not talk about crimes, Magnus Bane. For I never said he committed one.”

Magnus is familiar with her mind games. This is not the first time he has had to deal with faeries and it certainly won’t be the last. She can’t lie, but that doesn’t mean she can’t play with the truth. That’s what makes everything interesting to her, the fact that Magnus doesn’t completely understand her words.

“You must not desperately need this thing that you’re missing, otherwise you would have let him keep his memories.” Magnus gives Alexander’s foot a gentle squeeze. “He’s pretty useless in this… state.”

“There is nothing but time for us,” the Queen replies. She gets up, way shorter than Magnus remembered her to be, and walks up to where he’s sitting. Her dress barely touches the floor. The closer she gets, Magnus realizes, the more it smells like burnt sugar in the room. Alexander shakes a bit in his arms but stays asleep. “I believe you out of most downwordlers should know that by now.”

Magnus doesn’t like the way her eyes are glimmering, or how close to them she’s standing. “I am sorry, my lady, but I’m afraid I don’t understand the point of this curse at all. He will never be able to return what you’re missing if he does not remember where he put it in the first place.”

“Perhaps you would like to take his place?” she prompts.

This isn’t about Alexander. It’s not about the thing he stole or took by mistake. She knew Magnus would interfere if it was Alexander she went after. Except Magnus doesn’t understand what she could possibly want from him. She must want it badly if she was willing to do all of this to lure Magnus in.

“What good would that bring any of us?” Magnus reasons. “I am starting to think it is not what Alexander has with him that you really want.”

The Seelie Queen rips her big eyes off Alexander for a second. She looks as innocent as a child. “I want what is rightfully mine.”

Magnus has the feeling what is rightfully hers is not only what she’s missing. He says, “if that is your final word, then I will have to deliver Jonathan and Isabelle the bad news.”

She was not expecting Magnus to say that. Surprise flashes across her face and then it’s gone. This is not over, at least not for her. Now anger is burning in her eyes. She will not be fooled by a warlock. “He has until the festivities are over.”

An ultimatum. “I thought time was not something that upset you,” Magnus says. It’s a stupid thing to say, it will only make her angrier, and he can’t afford to upset her any further if he doesn’t want to jeopardize Alexander’s future. “Perhaps-“

“That is my decision,” she cuts him off, walking back to her throne. She sits down and stares down at them. “He has until the fifth day of the new year. If he does not return what is mine by then, he will not live to see the sixth day begin.”

Magnus’s hands are itching to close around her throat. “If it’s me who you want,” he blurts out, “then say so now.”

She lets out a humorless laugh. It makes a couple of faeries in the room flinch. “What could I want from you, Magnus Bane?”

Magnus’s brain tries to come with an answer, anything, but it’s a dead end alley. He can only guess at this point. “If you require my services…”

“Your magic tricks do not impress me,” she replies, effectively shutting him up. “Time might not matter to us, Bane, but Alexander has five days left. I would use that time wisely if I were him.”

Anger is beating on Magnus like a drum. He swallows it back down. “May I ask why you summoned me here, then?”

“It was done out of curiosity. I did not think you would come,” she says. Magnus thinks she’s lying for a second, but then he remember she can’t lie. The words are dripping with bitterness. “You have been extremely busy these past few months, or so I’ve been told. I cannot help but wonder if your responsibilities as the High Warlock of Brooklyn are weighting too heavily on your shoulders.”

Magnus is not going to ask her what she means by that. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you, my lady. I never turn down any invitations.”

Her eyes turn a shade darker. “Five days,” she says and gestures at a girl to step forward. “Kaelie will show you the way out if you do not remember it.”

Magnus smiles, or at least tries to. “I will see you soon,” he promises. It sounds more like a threat. “Hopefully we will both be pleased to see the other.”

The Queen does not say anything back.

***

 As soon as the words leave his mouth Jace’s fists are clenched in Magnus’s shirt and he’s being hauled to his feet. Jace slams Magnus’s back against the wall and it’s only by an inch that Magnus’s head doesn’t connect with it too. 

“What did you _do_?” he hisses, shaking with anger while his fists try to dig a hole in Magnus’s chest. “You were supposed to help him.”

Magnus could hurt Jace if he wanted to. It wouldn’t even take a lot of energy to do so, but Magnus feels like he kind of deserves this. Jace has a point. They came to him for help and instead of that they got a five day ultimatum and a death threat. He’s just glad Isabelle left Alexander in Maxwell’s room. This is not something Magnus would want him to see.

“It’s not about him,” Magnus says as calmly as he can. “She wants something from me and I don’t know what it is yet.”

Isabelle stops pacing around the room. She tugs at Jace’s sweatshirt, like she’s trying to haul him off Magnus. After a while Magnus feels Jace’s hand loosen on his shirt and eventually they’re completely gone. “Five days is- She can’t do that, she won’t,” Isabelle says. All she seems able to do is frown. “The Clave will never allow it. There’ll be a war-“

Magnus sighs at her naivety. “The Clave can’t afford to go to war with the Seelies right now. She knows that. And even if there is a war, which there won’t be, Alexander will die the second it begins.”

Jace rubs his eyes, asks, “why would she go after him if it’s you she wants? Doesn’t she know you two aren’t a thing anymore?”

They were so much more than just a thing. Magnus’s blood boils at that. _A thing_ , ha. As if Alexander Lightwood hadn’t ripped his heart out and stepped on it. Magnus stills himself for a second. That’s over and dealt with. He can’t mix the past and the present, it’s far too distracting.

He can’t afford that kind of distractions when there are only five days left to figure this out. “She knew you would come to me,” Magnus says instead. “We need to focus on what’s important. The Seelie Queen said he didn’t steal this thing we’re supposed to be looking for. Maybe he took it by mistake.”

“Alec doesn’t even frequent the same pla-“ Jace starts and cuts himself off. He turns around to look at Isabelle, who looks equally terrified. “Fuck,” he lets out, startling Magnus. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard Jace swear before. “ _Fuck._ ”

Isabelle sighs. “He’s been going out at night,” she explains. Magnus does not feel his heart sinking or his stomach dropping. He doesn’t. That’s the past. What Alexander does or doesn’t shouldn’t concern him. “He could have taken it from a stranger or…”

“Or it could have been given to him,” Magnus concludes. He sits back down. The Institute looks darker than Magnus remembers it. Right now, he’s just glad Robert and Maryse have gone back to Idris. Which reminds him, “Do your parents know about this?”

Jace breathes in and out a couple times. “No. They were supposed to come back from Idris last week, but there was an important meeting tomorrow and they had to stay there. Max couldn’t miss any more of his lessons so they sent him back on his own.”

Okay. That does save them some trouble. “Will they be back before-“ Magnus sees them flinch, “before the fifth day ends?”

“We don’t know!” Isabelle huffs. Her voice is growing louder by the second. It reminds Magnus of the time Jonathan had hidden her whip bracelet and- “None of that matters, Magnus. We’re wasting our time here when we could be looking for-“

Jace snaps at her, still looking at Magnus, “Looking for what, huh? We don’t even know what is it that we’re looking for in the first place, Isabelle. And thanks to you,” he says, his finger pointed at Magnus like a threatening dagger, “we only have days to do it.”

The word sorry flashes across Magnus’s mind for a second, but he can’t bring himself to say it. This is not his fault. It isn’t, no matter how much his heart is telling him otherwise. “Have you searched his room?” Magnus suddenly asks. Images of the last time he stepped into Alexander’s room flood his skull. It was still summer, hot and sweaty, and Alexander had been happy that day. They were going out to- “If he isn’t carrying it with him anymore, which he probably isn’t given the fact that he’s wearing Max’s clothes, then it must be in his room.”

“Oh, Angel,” Jace sighs, a hand lazily draped over his chest to fake relief. “How did we not think of that before?” He turns to Isabelle again, who has gone back to pacing around the couch. “Did you hear that, Izzy? We are saved.”

“You’re an asshole,” Magnus says. It comes out empty, just like Magnus himself is feeling. “You’re never going to save him if you keep fucking around like this, Jonathan.”

Jace is in his face again so fast Magnus has no time to react. “If something happens to him,” he says, his breath as sweet as the Seelie Queen’s. It certainly carries on the same threatening tone.

“Izzy?” a voice comes through the door. It’s high pitched and sleep tousled, but it sounds just like the voice Magnus used to hear every single morning when he woke up. “Jace?”

Jace steps away from Magnus and turns to the door. “In here bud,” he says, and it’s sad how soft his voice sounds. Jace waits until Alexander opens the door so he can make sure he sees him and only then smiles. “I thought you were playing with Max?”

Magnus hasn’t taken a proper look at the child before. He’s seen him, talked to him, but he hasn’t really looked at this Alexander so intently before. Even when Alexander was at his house Magnus made an effort not to watch him. It somehow felt wrong. The real Alexander, the older one, wouldn’t have liked Magnus staring at him like a creep. He wouldn’t have wanted Magnus to see him at all.

It’s hard to take his eyes off of him now, however. Alexander seems hesitant to walk into the room. It must hurt Jace even more than it hurts Magnus. Alexander doesn’t even know who Jace is. From what Magnus had gathered, he barely even remembers Isabelle as a baby. His fear and doubt must feel like a dagger to Jace. That’s why he’s always making sure to sound comforting and non-threatening. It’s not a look that suits him, but Magnus figures it’s better than having a scared four year old running around.

Alexander sneaks in, his feet barely making a sound when they touch the floor. “Is Izzy-“

“I’m here,” she hurries to his side and picks him up, even though he didn’t ask her to. Magnus had picked him up the same way just hours before. “Did Max fall asleep?”

“Yes,” Alexander says. His eyes land on Magnus, which is probably the reason why Jace turns to look at him too. Alexander raises the hand that isn’t wrapped around his sister’s neck and flexes his fingers once, twice.

Magnus smiles. “Glitter rain?” Sparks erupt from his fingertips in a second. He tries to make them as pretty as he can, using the colors he knows are -or used to be- Alexander’s favorites.  It’s pathetic, but Magnus feels better when he sees the smile that’s blooming on the kid’s face. “Do you want to do it yourself?”

Alexander frowns and so does Jace. “I can’t-“

Magnus crosses the distance between them in a second. Isabelle doesn’t move an inch. Magnus wonders if she’s holding her breath. He takes Alexander’s hand in his and makes the same sparks erupt, this time from Alexander’s fingertips. Magnus doesn’t think he’s ever seen him smile like that before.

Jace opens his mouth to say something, and Magnus knows it’s not going to be good judging by the way he’s been biting his tongue this whole time, but then he closes it again. Instead of saying anything, he fishes his phone from the pocket of his pants and fiddles with it for a while.

 _Even if something as idiotic as true love existed you’re not it for him._ Those had been Jace’s exact words when he showed up at Magnus’s loft. _Trust me, I would know._ Magnus had not given it a lot of thought, maybe because he was too busy worrying over a four year old to pay attention to what Jace had truly meant, but now that he thinks about it –and sees how displeased Jace is with his presence- Magnus thinks he’s finally figured it out.

If what they’ve said is true, why wouldn’t it be, and Alexander has been going out at night, having fun and getting himself into trouble, then he must have met someone else by know. Someone Jace knows about, someone he approves of more than he ever approved of Magnus. A year is a long time for mortals. Time means nothing to Magnus –now, he reminds himself, now it doesn’t- but Alexander is a different story. Perhaps Jonathan and Isabelle have asked the wrong person for help.

He cuts off the sparkling show at once. Alexander frowns and pouts a bit, but it doesn’t seem like he’s going to cry. Surprisingly, that doesn’t make Magnus feel better at all. He turns away from them, from him, even though that isn’t _him_ in the first place. This isn’t the Alexander Lightwood Magnus had known or cared about or cried over. This is a scared kid. And Magnus now feels even worse for stopping the only thing that seemed to make him smile like he didn’t even know what fear was.

“Clary’s downstairs,” Jace announces, to no one in particular. “Maybe you two could search his room, _again_.”

Isabelle adjusts Alexander on her hip. “C’mon, the room’s upstairs.”

“I know,” Magnus says quietly. “I’ve got a good memory.”

“You should go then,” Isabelle says, no apology in her voice. Alexander is resting his cheek against her collarbone. “I’m going to make him lunch.”

Jace opens the door, he steps outside after shooting one last displeased look at Magnus. “We’re trying to save him Isabelle, not do the Seelie Queen’s job for her,” he calls.

Magnus waits until Isabelle is facing away from him to steal a glance at Alexander. He notices Magnus’s stare instantly but doesn’t pick his head up from his sister’s shoulder. Instead, he smiles and flexes his fingers where Magnus can see them. Glitter rain.

Magnus looks away. There are only five days left and then all of this will be over. For better or for worse.


	4. 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, kudos and overall support. Hope you like this chapter!

 

**FOUR**

 

 

Alexander’s room is messier than Magnus has ever seen it, which is probably due to the fact that Jonathan and Isabelle have been rummaging through their brother’s things for days now. There are clothes everywhere, some Magnus remembers and some he has never seen before. The room looks exactly the same, except for small details Magnus wishes he could overlook, like the missing pictures on the wall, the absence of any gifts he ever gave Alexander –the red scarf, the souvenir from Paris, the _everything_ \- and the bitterness Magnus now feels when he looks around. Before, every time he walked into this room his whole body would relax, like he – _they_ \- could be anything inside these four walls. Now Magnus just feels eerie and stupidly nostalgic.

He’s tried to locate the object with magic, but the Seelie Queen is far too smart and knows the ropes far too well, so Magnus ends up empty handed every time he performs the location spell. There’s not a lot he can do that hasn’t been done already. He considers going through Alexander’s drawers, but decides it’s not something Alexander himself would approve of. Instead, Magnus stands in the middle of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, and stares at the mess of clothes and books. It feels somehow symbolic. Everything certainly feels like a mess.

A black piece of clothing catches his eyes, not because of the color, but because it’s the leather jacket Alexander had been wearing when they had first met. It’s laying on the floor under an open book about runes. Magnus had once stood in this same room, had helped Alexander out of that same leather jacket, and he had kissed-

None of that matters right now. He is not here to relive the past or to feel sorry for himself. He’s here because he has a mission. Magnus uses his magic to separate the books from the clothes. He’ll have to search each item by hand if he wants to be throughtful. There are only five days left and no time to dwell on the past.

***

“Have you found anything, Bane?”

Jace is not alone. Magnus doesn’t have to turn around to know Clary’s with him. He’s been searching for two hours now, trying as hard as he can not to really think about the clothes he’s touching and who they belong to. He’s done a terrific job at not finding anything. So far, Magnus has only found a black lighter and two crumpled up flyers, hidden inside jean pockets and in between book pages.

Magnus turns around because he hasn’t seen Clarissa in a year, and he’s curious to see how time has treated her. “Not really,” he says, flashing a smile at her, which she easily replies. “I still have a bunch of clothes to go through, though.”

Clary looks pretty much the same as she did back then. Magnus isn’t able to tell the difference. She says, “Well, I’m glad you decided to help us out.”

 _Despite everything_. Magnus has to look away. “Of course.”

“I’m going to look in Max’s room,” Jace announces. “Maybe I’ll get lucky.”

Magnus goes back to feeling up clothes and flipping through books. He stops when he feels someone sit down beside him. Clary grabs a couple of books and opens the first one. There’s an awkward silence hanging around them.

“It was my idea to ask you,” she says softly, like she’s afraid Magnus might bolt out of the room. “I know it’s hard for you, but you really are our last shot.”

 _What happens if I fail?_ Magnus pushes the question to the furthest corner of his mind. He doesn’t need to ask what will happen if he fails, he already knows the answer. Five days.

Magnus dismisses her with a lazy movement of his hand. “It’s fine,” he says, opening a new book. “I’m sorry I can’t be more… helpful.”

“You’re starting to sound like Jace.”

“I’ve noticed he’s come to dislike me quite a bit,” Magnus says as casually as he can. It’s not something that upsets him. Magnus has never cared what Jonathan Lightwood thinks of him, and he is not about to start caring right now. “But I’m sure it’s because of the stress you have all been under.”

Clary hums under her breath. She’s on her third book when she says, “dislike is not the word I would use.”

“Really?”

“I’d say he hates you with a burning passion,” Clary says, only half-joking. Magnus is not sure why his throat closes up for a second at her words. “But for what it counts, I think he’s being unfair.”

Magnus clears his throat and pretends to be really concerned with the packet of gummy bears he just found in Alec’s jumper. “How so?”

“There were two people in that relationship, it wasn’t just you.” There’s a moment of silence. Clary is waiting for Magnus to say something, which he won’t say because he’s not even breathing, but then she goes on, “it’s been hard on Alec, but I’m sure it’s been hard on you too.”

Magnus can’t think of anything to say. His brain is playing her words on repeat. _It’s been hard on Alec._ “What do you mean?”

Clary looks at him like he’s just told her them most stupid thing. “I mean that you shouldn’t feel bad for-“

“Not that,” Magnus shakes his head, tries to get his thoughts to stop running away from him, “the part about Alexander.”

“Oh,” she puts her final book away and repeats, “It’s been hard on Alec, that’s all.”

Magnus’s thoughts go back to what Jace had said. He had thought Alexander had moved on. In fact, he was almost certain that there was someone else. It had never crossed his mind that maybe he wasn’t over it. Or maybe Clary just means that Alexander had a hard time coping a couple of months after their break-up, but now he’s fine, besides the fact that he’s been turned into a four year old child. Magnus is fine too. Everyone’s just fine.

“Is he-“

“What’s that?” Clary cuts him off, pointing at the black leather jacket Magnus had been staring at earlier. He couldn’t bring himself to touch it. “Have you already checked that?”

“No,” Magnus says, trying to remind himself that it’s okay, she doesn’t know what that jacket represents, or used to represent. To her it’s just another leather jacket. “I’ll do it,” he quickly says when he sees Clary reaching out for it.

Clary lets her hand drop. “What are we going to do if we can’t find it?”

“I’ll convince the Seelie Queen to let him live,” Magnus replies, his fingers brushing against the black leather. He tries not to cradle it too much, so as to not let Clary know how much this means to him. Or used to mean. “I’ll trade places with him. I’ll-“

“Alec wouldn’t want you to do that. He would never ask you to do something like that. Your people need you, too.”

His people. Magnus remembers the fight they had about his people, how Magnus had said it was Alexander’s fault that he couldn’t be the leader he was supposed to be, how Alexander had looked at him after he said those words. How his leadership did not change after he was done seeing Alexander, but if anything got so much worse.

Jace steps into the room. “There’s nothing in Max’s room. Or in the change of clothes Alec was wearing this morning. Did you find anything here?”

“No,” Clary shakes her head. She gets up from where she’s been sitting beside Magnus. “Maybe we should think of another way.”

Magnus blinks. “What do you mean?”

“If it’s not Alec she wants, then maybe instead of trying to find this stupid thing we should be trying to figure out why she wants Magnus.” Clary looks at Jace, silently asking him to back her up. He just stares at her, like Magnus is doing. “Have you done anything recently to make her upset?”

“We have not talked in years. Besides, why would she risk everything, going after a shadowhunter, just to get back at me?” Magnus rolls his eyes at them. “I might be the High Warlock of Brooklyn but I’m not that important.”

Jace runs a hand through his hair. “You’re right. You aren’t that important,” he says, and there’s more to it than that but he cuts himself off by saying, “but obviously the person or thing you fucked up must be that important to her.”

Magnus sighs angrily, “I haven’t-“

“Wait,” Clary turns to Jace, her face a question mark and brows furrowed. “Didn’t you tell me the other day that there had been an issue with the Clave because some Downworlers were murdered?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” Jace asks. “S _hadowhunters are only here to keep humans safe_ , blah, blah, blah. That’s all the Clave had to say about that.”

“Well, who’s responsible for that then?”

Jace throws his hands in air, in exasperation. His look is more accusing than a pointed finger. “I don’t know, maybe the High Warlock of Brooklyn?”

 Magnus doesn’t know what they’re talking about. Surely, if that was true he would know all about it by now. There is no way murders could fly under his radar like that, especially when they involve Downworlders. But it’s also true that Magnus has been a bit reckless with his job lately.

“What happened?” he asks, his fingers closing around Alexander’s leather jacket. “Surely it was just an isolated case.”

“Ten faeries have been murdered in the last two months,” Jace says, clearly struggling to remember. He had been right when he said this was not the Clave’s business. “I think the vampires might have something to do with it. From what I’ve heard, they haven’t been getting along since the Seelie Queen took to liking werewolves.”

“But I-“ Magnus cuts himself off, suddenly too ashamed to speak. This is his fault. He’s the one supposed to keep things like this from happening, and yet he had to hear about it from a Shadowhunter. The Queen’s words hit him like punch in the stomach. _The High Warlock of Brooklyn still has time left to care for those who don’t need his protection._ That’s what she meant. “She must have lost someone she truly cared about in those… confrontations. This must be her way of making me pay for it.”

Clary doesn’t seem to agree with him. “Well, you weren’t the one who killed them, were you? How do you even kill a faerie?”

“I might as well have,” Magnus says once his mouth stops feeling like a desert. “These past few months… I haven’t been doing my job. I’m afraid I have been out of town more than I’d like to admit.”

Jace looks distraught. “Then you should be the one paying for your mistakes. Alec doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“I know. But she’s not going to let him live if we don’t find what she wants us to, even if it’s all a game in the end.” Magnus rubs his eyes, unconcerned about his make-up. “We have to find it.”

“Why would she do this, though?” Clary asks to no one in particular, although Magnus can’t help but hear the recrimination in her voice. “Why would she pick Alec, if-“

“She thinks I’ll fail.” Magnus avoids looking at them, instead focusing on the jacket he’s holding. God, he’s missed that jacket. It’s been a whole year or even longer since he’s seen it on Alexander, since he’s even thought of it at all. “She wants me to lose him, just like she lost her people.”

If Clary wasn’t in the room Jace would probably have Magnus cornered against the wall again. Magnus can feel the anger coming off of Jace in waves, his mouth pressed into a thin and bitter line. He doesn’t say anything but it’s not like he has to. Magnus knows him, not matter how much he wishes he didn’t, and he knows that there is no one who loves Alexander more than Jace does. He doesn’t think even Isabelle is as infatuated with her brother as Jace is. It must be so easy for Jace to just point his finger at Magnus and heap his plate with all the mistakes and the guilt and the aftermath.

It’s not that Magnus doesn’t think some of it was his fault, he knows he should have worked harder at communicating, but Alexander was the one who left. Technically, Magnus was the one who kicked him out and took away his key. Yet Alexander never came back. Magnus waited for him to call, waited for a text with some sort of explanation, for anything. It was and still is stupid. Life isn’t a Hollywood comedy, especially not his. Once people walk out of his life they tend to stay gone. Magnus doesn’t know why he thought Alexander would be different.

“I should keep looking,” Magnus announces when the silence gets too heavy, even for him. The knowledge that he’s the reason why this is happening to Alexander sits heavy on his shoulders. “I’ll find it,” he says, more to himself than to them. At this point, he’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

Clary gives him a small smile, like she doesn’t have the energy for a real one. “It’s okay, we’ll look downstairs again.” She makes sure Jace is already out of the room when she sneaks Magnus one last sad glance, which only makes him feel more aggravated. He doesn’t need her pity. It’s been a year. “I’m glad you’re helping us.”

He’s not doing this for any of them. Still, he says, “you’re welcome.”

The leather jacket feels a thousand times heavier once he’s alone in Alexander’s room again. Magnus refuses to feel guilty for checking its pockets, he refuses to consider this an invasion of Alexander’s privacy. The left pocket is empty, but his fingers brush against something in the second one. There’s a slit there, and when he sneaks his fingers inside they brush against something cold. Magnus lets himself hope.

It’s just a blue marble, the kind mundane children like to play with. It doesn’t look like the type of thing the Seelie Queen would be interested in, but there’s something strange about its colors. Besides that, Magnus can’t possibly imagine why Alexander would keep a marble in his jacket. So Magnus goes with his gut, which hasn’t failed him too often, and puts it away in his own pocket. He’ll look into it later.

He goes on looking for any suspicious object and even goes as far as checking under Alexander’s bed and under his mattress, but he comes away empty handed. The room is a complete mess, even more chaotic than how Magnus found it in the first place, so he tidies up as best as he can using his magic before finally heading downstairs.

The kitchen door is open, threatening Magnus to go inside. He walks up to it but stays put against the doorframe, watching Isabelle as she tries to convince Alexander that her food is worth eating. They’re both facing away from him, sitting at the wooden table Magnus has never eaten at. He’s only ever been invited to the Institute for demon related issues, he’s never stayed the night or shared a meal with any of them in this kitchen. Alexander’s kneeling on his chair because he can barely reach the table otherwise, and he sounds confused.

“Is this chicken?” he asks, probably for the millionth time, as he holds his fork an inch away from his eyes. “It doesn’t really look like-“

“It is,” Isabelle assures him. “It just got a bit burned, that’s all. It’s, uh, crisp. Now would you _please_ eat?”

Alexander sighs and puts the food in his mouth very reluctantly. Magnus can’t see his face, but he imagines him frowning all the same. “Where’s Jace?” he asks when he’s done chewing.

“He’s with Clary. I think that if you’re good and eat everything on your plate then we can convince him to get you some ice cream, how does that sound?”

There’s a moment of silence. Magnus wonders exactly how bad Isabelle’s food is if Alexander is taking so much time to decide if he’s going to eat it or not. “I don’t know,” he finally settles for. That chicken must really suck. “And Magnus?”

Isabelle doesn’t seem too excited about his questions. Magnus’s heart speeds up until he remembers that it’s not supposed to. She says, “I don’t know. He may have left already.”

 “Oh. Okay.”

“Why do you ask?”

Alexander shifts in his chair. His black hair is messier on the back of his head, all ruffled and pointing at every direction. “He could make ice cream appear. Like a… a…”

“A magic trick?” Isabelle supplies. “Do you want me to tell you a secret? He doesn’t actually make food appear, he just snatches it from the shops.”

“Is that stealing?”

Magnus has to bite his tongue to keep from answering. It’s not stealing. He always leaves a good tip. Isabelle beats him to it. “He pays for it sometimes.”

“My mom says…” Alexander starts to say, but cuts trails off midsentence. “ _Our_ mom says warlocks and werewolves aren’t nice people.”

Izzy plays dumb. “You think so too?”

“I don’t know,” Alexander throws his tiny hands up in exasperation. “I haven’t seen… have never seen a werewolve.”

“Werewolf,” she corrects him. “Well, you’ve met a warlock, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Does he seem like a bad person to you?”

Magnus stupidly holds his breath. It doesn’t matter what he says, he tells himself, he’s just a kid.

Alexander puts another bite of chicken in his mouth. “I don’t think so,” he chews. “I’m full.”

“But you barely ate anything! C’mon Alec, you really do need to eat.”

Magnus steps away from the door. He wishes there was a way to turn back time, to reverse and rewind everything that went down in the last year. And that hurts to admit. He had been angry and hurt in the beginning, now he just feels burnt out and tired and so lonely. He thinks about the leather jacket in Alexander’s room, about the anger burning behind Jace’s eyes every time he looks at him. He can’t keep doing this to himself.

“I don’t want any more chicken,” Magnus hears Alexander whine in a high pitched voice. He’s ten meters away now, the sound of his voice is muffled and far away.

Magnus hates himself for it, but he still makes a whole pint of Ben and Jerry’s vanilla ice cream appear in the kitchen counter once he’s out the front door. He figures he owes Alexander that much.

***

As it turns out, the marble _is_ a magical object. The problem is that Magnus doesn’t know if it belongs to the Seelie Queen or not, or if it’s simply coated in magic to make it appear magical. It’s an old and dirty trick, but it’s not unlikely that the Queen or anyone else enchanted it to throw Magnus off. They-mainly Alexander, but also everyone who cares about him- are three days in. It took Magnus this long to get updated on everything he has missed in the last months and to kind of pinpoint what role the marble plays in this whole game. However, he’s not one hundred percent sure this is what the Queen is looking for. It seems pretty obvious, which only makes everything more difficult.

He hasn’t told anyone about it because he doesn’t know what there is to tell in the first place. He found a blue marble in Alexander’s jacket and it’s magical. Hell, maybe Alec found it on a mission and decided to keep it. Maybe he even bought it on the internet. There are a dozen sites that offer them, if you know where to look. This stupid marble doesn’t mean anything, but it’s also the only thing Magnus has that could possibly save Alexander’s life.

On top of trying to decipher what that means, Magnus has been busy looking into the murders Jace mentioned. The word murder seems too light in Magnus’s opinion. Slaughter would be more appropriate. Ten faeries were found with their heads cut off and their blood, or whatever that black and thick stuff inside of them is, drained. Raphael, however, said his people didn’t have anything to do with it when Magnus called him last night. He could be lying, but Magnus trusts him not to. He’s a good guy- a good, dead guy. Something pretty hard to find these days.

So he’s three days into this nightmare and so far things aren’t looking too good. Magnus tries not to worry about Alexander. He knows, or at least he makes himself believe, that the Queen won’t kill him if Magnus asks to take his place. This is what she wants, to draw this out as much as possible. And Magnus would –and will- take his place if necessary. He doesn’t even have to think about it. The thought of being so sure, of giving up his own immortality for his ex-boyfriend, should scare him. In fact, it should at least make him question his sanity. Yet Magnus feels oddly at peace. If that’s what needs to happen, then so be it.

However, there’s always the possibility that the Queen won’t allow Magnus to swap places with Alexander, that she’ll make him watch as Alexander fades away and finally dies. He wonders if she’d turn him back before that happens or if Alexander would stay a child and go out like that. Magnus tries not to think of Jonathan or Isabelle holding a child’s corpse, but the image creeps into his dreams sometimes.

He should just stay at the loft and keep on working on a solution for this mess, but ever since the day Jace came knocking on his door Magnus can’t seem to stay away. He tries to take some pride in the fact that Alexander won’t remember any of this, that he won’t remember how pathetic Magnus is and how desperate he was to hang out with five-year old him. He tries to be sneaky about it, which only makes it even more pathetic.

This time he shows up at the Institute with the marble in his pocket, an alibi if any of them question his presence, and hope growing in his chest like an infection. Magnus just wants to enjoy this as long as he can.

Isabelle slams into him on her way down the main corridor. “Have you found anything?” She looks like she hasn’t slept well in a while, dark circles under her eyes Magnus had never noticed before. “Simon says the vampires didn’t have anything to do with what happened to those faeries.”

“I know, I talked to Raphael last night. He said he had no clue what I was talking about. I…”

She seems agitated when she speaks again. “I think it’s getting worse.”

“What? Worse how?”

“He’s not... I think he keeps getting younger. I mean, he looks pretty much the same as he did yesterday and the day before, but… He _sounds_ younger.” Isabelle rubs her eyes. Magnus pretends not to see how wet her eyelashes are. “He’s begun to slur his words.”

Fear bites at Magnus’s heart. This wasn’t the deal. “Can I see him?”

“He’s in Jace’s room.” She opens her mouth and closes it. Finally, she says, “you know where that is.”

Magnus should tell her about the marble, but he doesn’t want to get her hopes up. In a way, he doesn’t want to fail her with this, too. So he keeps quiet as he makes his way to Jace’s room, the one sandwiched between Max’s and Alexander’s.

Jace opens the door after the third knock. “What do you want?”

From where Magnus stands he can see Alexander is sitting on the floor, barefoot, with his back against the bed. His big doe eyes are tired, like Isabelle’s were, and they’re focused on the Lego blocks in front of him.

“Isabelle said he’s getting younger,” Magnus says in a hushed voice, even though Alec is not paying him any attention. “Why did no one tell me?”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we have been a bit busy. Besides,” Jace looks back at Alec for a second and he, too, speaks in whispers, “we only noticed today.”

“Can I?” Magnus gestures.

Jace looks like he wants to protest, but decides against it. “I’m going to take a shower. I want you out of here when I get back, understood?”

Magnus nods solemnly. “Will do.” He closes the door behind him and it’s only then when Alexander looks up at him. “Hey kiddo. What are you building?”

His head is lolled to the side in a funny way, like his neck can’t hold it up. “House.”

Magnus sits down in front of him and points at the pile of untouched blocks. “Can I play?”

“Okay,” Alexander mumbles. He doesn’t seem too excited today. When Magnus snaps his fingers to build a whole castle he barely seems impressed.

“Are you tired?” Magnus tries to ask casually. “Maybe you should take a nap.”

Alexander closes his eyes for a second and when he opens them they are glistening with unshed tears. It takes Magnus completely off guard when he kicks the piled blocks and starts to cry. Like full on, snot running down his chin, kind of crying. Magnus doesn’t know what to do.

“What’s wrong love?” Magnus asks, completely panicking. Maybe he’s in pain, maybe he’s-

“I want my mom,” he cries and kicks the blocks away. His eyes stay closed, his head still on his shoulder like he’s too tired to sit up straight. His crying wasn’t loud, just panicky and the sort of thing a toddler would do in the beginning of a tantrum. It’s already dying down. “Mom.”

“I… alright, how about you take a nap and I’ll try and find your mom, buddy? How does that sound?”

Alexander doesn’t seem to be listening. He’s already passed out on the floor, his cheek pressed against the pointy side of one of the blocks he had been playing with. This is definitely not normal. When Magnus first saw him at the loft he had been surprised by how articulate and mature the kid seemed. He’s not sure Alexander’s getting younger, he looks exactly the same, but he does seem more exhausted.

Magnus lifts him up using magic and tucks him in Jace’s bed. He doesn’t think Jace will mind too much, considering everything that’s going on. He feels like a mother when he presses the back of his hand to Alexander’s forehead, checking for a fever. What surprises him isn’t his temperature, but how pale Alexander’s skin looks in contrast to his own. In fact, it’s taking a scary yellow undertone.

The marble sits heavy in his pocket, burning a hole in his conscience every time his thoughts return to it. The third day is close to ending and Magnus doesn’t plan on waiting to see what the fourth will bring. It doesn’t matter who killed those faeries or if this stupid marble is what the Seelie Queen is looking for. What matters is that this is his fault, they were his responsibility and he turned his back on his people when they needed him. And he’s not going to let Alexander Lightwood pay for his mistakes.

“I forgot my towel.” Jace stops by the bed, looking just as concerned as Magnus is feeling. “He went back to sleep?”

“Yes, he threw a bit of a tantrum and then he was out like a light.” Magnus examines Jace’s face, asks, “Is there something wrong with that?”

Jace stares at Alexander for a while. He doesn’t seem too eager about finding his towel anymore. “He’s been sleeping a lot these past few days. Like, a lot.”

“Okay. How much is a lot?”

“He slept thirteen hours yesterday,” Jace replies stoically. “He had just woken up from a nap when you got here.”

That’s not good. “He seemed…”

“Tired? Grumpy? Toddler-like?” Jace supplies. He sits on the bed by Alexander, being careful not to make the mattress sink with his weight. “He doesn’t look younger, but he’s acting a lot like it.”

A glance at Alexander’s face makes Magnus’s stomach drop. His face is peaceful in sleep, but somehow it still looks tired. “I don’t think that’s the problem.”

“What-“

Magnus looks away. “The Queen said we have until the fifth day, but she didn’t say exactly how he’d pass away. And I don’t think it’s going to be very sudden.”

“You think he’s dying, then?” Jace gets up, stares down at him like Magnus just told him the most infuriating thing in the world. “You think he’s fading away, bit by bit, don’t you?”

“That’s my theory, more or less.”

Jace rolls up the right sleeve of his shirt. His hand is shaking when he points to the black rune on the inside of his arm. “I would _know_. He’s not dying. If he- if he was fading away I would know,” Jace’s voice escalates. “He’s my fucking brother. You don’t know how deep our bond goes, Bane. I would know. I would fucking know.”

Magnus feels sorry for him. For all of them. “This is not the kind of magic you are accustomed to. It’s not your fault, but you wouldn’t be able to tell even if he was your Siamese twin.” He stares at the spot next to Jace’s head, trying to stay focused on what’s happening, trying to make sure he doesn’t lose it as well. “Look at him, really look at him. He’s not sleeping because he’s tired. His body’s shutting down.”

“How can you be so calm about this?” Jace rages on. He’s not trying to keep his voice on check anymore. From what Magnus has seen, Jace isn’t going to wake Alexander up anyways. The kid looks out of it. “He’s- this is your fault. If something happens to him, I swear I will-“

“You’ll, and I quote, fucking kill me. There’s no need to repeat yourself, I don’t have any memory problems that I know of.”

Jace ignores his statement completely. “He’s going to die. And you know what the sickest part is, Bane? That he probably wouldn’t even mind. As long as you got off the hook.”

Magnus’s brain stirs. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Because he’s an idiot,” Jace goes on, like he hasn’t even heard Magnus. “I told him, I said to him, don’t do this to yourself. But he kept going, every single night.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s not going to die. I’ll kill the Seelie Queen herself if I have to, but he’s not going to die in your place.” Jace grabs him by the wrist to kick him out the room and Magnus lets him. There’s not much point in fighting him off at this point. “We went to you for help, but you’re just as useless as the rest of us. You don’t get to see him anymore. I don’t know what kind of sick kick you get out of this-“

Magnus’s blood thickens then rewinds. “Do you think I like this? I... I’m not going to let him die. I would never-“

Jace gives him one final push to get him out of the room. The hallways is empty, like every other shadowhunter in the Institute knows what’s going on and doesn’t want to have anything to do with it. “Well, you also said you would never do a shit ton of things that you ended up doing, so excuse me for not taking your word for it this time.”

“What-“

Jace slams the door on his face so hard the hinges shake. Even though he feels like a moron, Magnus can’t move an inch from where he’s standing. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t have come back, and yet here he is, feeling sicker by the second.

There was a time when Magnus actually liked coming here. It’s not like Robert or Maryse ever gave him so much as an approving glance or even talked to him, but Magnus got to hike the stairs and hide in the safety of Alexander’s room after the missions were done with. He’d sit on Alexander’s bed and wait for him to take a shower to get off the blood that had already begun to dry on his skin, and Magnus would sit there and wait happily. There was a time when Magnus was happy in this place, in the room next to the one he’s standing outside of, in Alexander’s life. And it’s the fucking symbolism what makes it for him, because the door is closed –even though it’s not even the door to Alexander’s room, and there’s just nothing left for him to do here.

There’s no one to wait for anymore.

Isabelle is downstairs when he gets there, like she’s been waiting for him to come down. “I heard Jace yelling at you,” she says quietly. She doesn’t look too much like Alexander, but just enough that Magnus has to look away. “Maybe… maybe I should call my parents.” She says like a question, like she’s looking for some sort of advice.

“It’s not like they can do anything about it,” Magnus replies, cringes at the steel-like edge of his own voice. “Sorry.”

“They should know, though. In case…” Isabelle trails off. “They should get to say goodbye.”

It’s not going to come to that, Magnus wants to say but the words escape him. “I found this,” he says instead, taking the marble out of his pocket and holding it up for her to see. He hopes it’s enough, hopes she understands what he’s trying to say, hopes-maybe stupidly so, that she’ll be relieved. “I- it was in Alexander’s jacket. I think maybe this is what, uh, the Queen is looking for.”

Isabelle’s eyes remain dull. “It’s a marble.”

“Yes, but it’s got a thin layer of magic. It’s almost like someone dipped it in-“

“Magnus,” Isabelle cuts him off. It’s the first time in a long time since she’s said his name, especially like that. She doesn’t look at Magnus with anger or resentment the way Jace does, she just feels sorry for him. It reminds Magnus of the small smile Clary gave him the other day. “If you really thing that’s it, then I believe you. But I love Alec more than I believe you, do you understand?”

“Yes.”

“So I need to make sure everyone that loves Alec knows what’s going on, because if-“ she cuts herself off, suddenly and angrily. “We should all get to say goodbye.”

“I’m not wrong,” Magnus says, more forcefully than he intended to. “Let me take him to her tonight.”

Her mouth is closed so tight her lips are starting to turn white. “Last time you took him there she gave him five days to live,” is all she says.

“Why would Alexander have this, then?” Magnus just wants her to touch it, to feel how warm and buzzing with magic the marble is. “What else are we supposed to do, just sit here and wait for him to die?”

Isabelle stands up straighter. She looks at the stairs and then at Magnus. “Jace will never let you take him.” It’s not a threat, not really.

Magnus relaxes a bit, knowing she’s on his side for once. “Izzy.” He swallows forcefully, overly aware that he hasn’t called her that in a while. “It has to be tonight.”

They stand at the bottom of the stairs for so long Magnus is starting to think maybe she’s changed her mind, maybe she was never on his side. Yet Isabelle is always full of surprises, as Alexander once told him, and just when Magnus is about to speak again she gives him a faint nod.

“Be here at eight,” she says. “Not a second earlier. I’ll… figure out a way to get Jace to leave Alec sleeping in his room.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Magnus says, promises, wishes out loud. “He’ll be back to normal in the morning. I know he will.”

Isabelle licks her lips. It’s the first time Magnus has seen her without lipstick on. “Hopefully you’ll be okay too.”

This time it’s Magnus who looks away.


	5. 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. It's taken me months to post this chapter and it's not even as long as it should be. I know. Life has it's way of fucking up my plans. I will finish this story though. Just two more chapters to go. I promise I will. Thank you for being so patient with me.

 

 

 

 

**FIVE**

 

 

It’s easy to sneak back into the Institute later that night. Magnus has done so a thousand times. He remembers the three floor hike to Alexander’s room, how his brain had every loose board on the stairs memorized so as not to make a sound, and the way Alexander’s bedroom door wouldn’t make a squeaky sound if he opened it with magic. But now, as he climbs the stairs and avoids the fourth step, Magnus realizes he doesn’t miss any of that. The hiding, the anal-retentive caution he had to carry around with him- those are the only things he doesn’t want to have back.

He stands in front of Jace’s locked door for a while, trying to hear if there are any sounds coming from inside, anything that might indicate that Isabelle wasn’t able to convince Jace to leave the Institute. There are none. His hand finds the doorknob easily in the darkness and it doesn’t make any sound when he opens the door.

Alexander is still in Jace’s bed, and Magnus tries not to think too much, tries to will his eyes not to see how big that bed is for Alexander’s tiny body. He looks exactly like he did when Magnus left earlier, except now he’s wearing some pajamas with drawings of animals all over them. He has kicked the sheets off and is now sleeping on his stomach, the same way Magnus has always watched him sleep.

The bed creaks when Magnus sits on the edge of the mattress. “Hey kid,” he tests his voice, trying to make sure it’s not shaky. Alexander’s always been a light sleeper, so he opens his eyes before Magnus has even finished speaking.

He looks at Magnus with his big eyes. They sort of glimmer, even in the dark. “Hello,” he says calmly. “Are we going now?”

“What?”

Alexander pushes himself up until he’s sitting on the bed, his little legs hanging from the side and not even touching the ground beneath them. His tiny feet still have the power to freak Magnus out. “Izzy said you’d come and, uh. I forgot the rest,” he admits sheepishly. “I’m tired,” he adds.

Magnus tries to quiet the corrosive thoughts that are spinning around in his head. He’s dying, he’s dying, he’s- “Want me to carry you?”

The boy shifts, Magnus can’t quite see what he’s doing, and then he’s touching Magnus’s neck hesitantly. His hands are just as small as his feet. “Piggy back ride?”

“I- okay. Just, hold on tightly. I don’t want you to fall.”

Alexander wraps his arms around Magnus’s neck. He lets out a sleepy laugh when Magnus gets a hold of his ankles and stands up. “Thank you.”

Magnus gives his ankles a squeeze instead of replying. He doesn’t have to ask Alexander to be quiet as they’re sneaking out the broken window in the storage room because he’s already asleep. He’s not passed out like he was earlier, but his head is on Magnus’s shoulder and Magnus can feel the puffs of air against his skin, like muffled snores.

Alexander wakes up again when they’ve reached the park. He seems excited, even in his tired state. “What are we doing here?” he asks, straining a bit to see the lights that are dancing on the water. Faeries really like shiny things. He points at them. “Did you do that?”

“No, love.”

“Who did?”

Magnus pauses. He doesn’t know how much Alexander knows about faeries or magical creatures. He seems to know some basic stuff, like what a warlock is, even a werewolf. “A fairy.”

Alexander points at himself then, says, “Jace says I was cursed by a fairy.”

Of course he did. Magnus tries not to roll his eyes. He adjusts Alexander on his back and continues walking. “That’s why we’re here. To- err, make you okay again.”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you-“

“Is that a fairy?” Alexander cuts him off, not pointing at anything but looking straight ahead. Magnus follows his gaze and is met with a little girl. Except she’s not a little girl, not really.

She smiles, kind of. “I had almost forgotten about you two.”

Magnus’s grip on Alexander tightens. He plasters on a smile too. “I’m glad you could join us tonight, my lady.”

“You’re not here to waste my time, are you, Magnus Bane?”

“I thought time meant nothing to you,” Magnus says, not taking one step towards her.

“It does,” the Queen replies easily. She’s less creepy when she looks like this, only a bit older than the Alexander Magnus has been carrying around on his back. “It should mean nothing to you too.”

“I-“

She cuts him off by turning around. “Would you like to join me for a walk?” she asks, back to him.

“Of course.” He puts Alexander down, no matter how loudly his brain is screaming at him to grab the child and run. If something goes wrong it’ll be easier for him to run like this. Magnus tries not to think of the fact that if something did go wrong Alexander would not make it even make two meters by foot. He would, in fact, not make it at all. He’s not even wearing shoes, just a pair of blue socks.  “Don’t let go of my hand, okay?”

Alexander looks up at him and takes his hand. He must see the worry and fear on Magnus’s face because he says, “it’s going to be okay. Jace said so, too.”

“I know,” Magnus replies, his voice shaking like a leaf on a windy day. “I know.”

“Do you know why you’re here?” the Seelie Queen asks him as they make their way deeper into the park, away from the fountains and the lake. “I believe I have given you more than enough time to figure it out.”

Time. Magnus wishes he could make it stop. Or make it go backwards. “I’m sorry for your losses.”

She turns to look at him for the first time. It’s hard to tell if her hair is moving on its own or if it’s the wind that’s making it dance. “Are you?” she asks, her eyes black as coal, unmoving and fixed on their joined hands. “Or are you afraid of your own loss?”

Her bare feet make a scratching sound every time they hit the ground and it’s making Magnus’s head ache. Alexander hasn’t complained yet, but Magnus can feel him tugging at his hand every once in a while, and eventually he’ll be too tired to walk on his own. “I made a mistake. I don’t see why he should suffer the consequences of my actions.”

“You know why,” she says and walks a circle around them. Alexander can’t stop looking at her. “It’s a different kind of pain, being left behind. You have been alive long enough to know that.”

Magnus reaches into his pocket and pulls out the marble. She does not even blink. The thoughts that maybe he got it all wrong, that this is not what she’s looking for, that he’s fucked up everything again flood his brain. “I will find who did that to your people,” he says, but the words don’t seem good enough. “But he has nothing to do with this, not anymore.”

“Is that what you think?”

Magnus sighs when Alexander leans against his leg, his face pressed against Magnus’s hipbone, clearly exhausted. He picks him up and puts him on his hip, one arm under his bum to secure him and the other one on his back, as if that could shield him from having to see her. He’s out like a light again the second his forehead touches the inside of Magnus’s neck.

“I had not seen him in over a year,” Magnus says hastily. He hates that she’s holding all of the cards and that he only has this stupid marble to try and save the day. “He wasn’t-“

The Queen gets on her tip toes, as if to get a better look at Magnus’s face. “He was the reason you got reckless.”

“He was not in my life anymore when those fairies were murdered.”

“I know,” she replies. Her voice is not as slurred as a child’s should be. “You were mourning his loss, like the mundane do. Your pain made you irresponsible.”

Magnus is so tired of this. He’s running solely on adrenaline and even that is not enough to keep the fatigue he’s feeling at bay. “I have the marble. It’s over.” He doesn’t care if it sounds like he’s begging, which he kind of is. “If you could turn him back now, it’d be quite a relief.”

The Queen’s hair stops moving, even though the wind is still shaking the tree branches above them. “He’ll be old again when the new year begins.”

Relief makes Magnus’s knees shake. He was right, it was the marble. It was the stupid, poorly hidden marble, and-

“You knew I’d find it,” Magnus says slowly as the pieces start to fall into place. He can’t see the whole picture yet, but he can feel it’s not a pretty one. “You never intended on killing him.”

She clicks her tongue, kind of. At least that’s what it sounds like to Magnus. “It appears so.”

“It’s…” Magnus steps away from her, just to see how she reacts. The Queen does not appear faced. Why would she go through so much trouble, just to stop the game on the fourth day?

“Time, as I’ve told you before, means nothing to our kind. Why would I cut what will eventually be untied?” She is smiling now, Magnus can tell the difference. Before, she was trying not to smile; now the grin has spread like an infection across her whole face. “You might think I have done you a favor. I would advise you to think twice.”

Magnus’s brain is trying to understand what all her babbling means. “I don’t- You wanted to join our paths again.”

“He will perish and you will not. I have given you a glimpse into your future, this past week. He grew tired, did he not? And weak. He has been dying since the day he was born, just like any other mortal.” She walks and the earth beneath Magnus’s feet shakes with every footstep. “A little bird told me that was the reason you parted ways.”

“I still don’t understand,” Magnus says stupidly. “For all you know, we could never see each other again when this is over. And he will probably live fifty or sixty years.”

“You will see each other again,” she replies, unbothered by the fact that Magnus is clearly not catching up. “And Shadowhunters very seldom live until they are old. I am in no rush to torture you, Magnus Bane.”

It hits Magnus like a kick in the stomach. She’s not letting Alexander go that easily. She’s keeping her part of the deal, which was to turn him back as soon as they returned what was hers. This was all a game, a trap, to get Magnus to come back into Alexander’s life. To get him to fall in love with him again –as if he had ever fallen out, Magnus thinks and hates himself, as if- and then crush him unexpectedly. It could take months, or years, but she would always be waiting. She had all the time in the world.

All the cards are on the table now. If they leave now Alexander will be back to normal in a day, but at what cost? Alexander will always have to watch his back, always waiting for her to finally off him. But this is what she wants, too. She’s trying to trick Magnus into starting a confrontation, so she’ll have the excuse to hurt them.

"You’ll go after him, won’t you?” Maguns finds himself asking. He’s holding Alexander so tightly it’s strange he hasn’t woken up. “Even if I try to stay away.”

“ _Especially_ if you stay away,” the Queen replies. Her bony arms make Magnus feel even more uncomfortable. “I know you have endured a lot of losses these past centuries. How could you not? One cannot be alive and not lose things. Yet I’m afraid it’s been too long since you’ve had someone taken away from you.”

Magnus’s arms feel numb around Alexander’s tiny body. “I will find who did that to your people. Please,” he feels bile coming up when he hears himself begging her. “I just need more time.”

She blinks and gives a little twirl. Her dress floats around her, not touching the floor, and so does her hair. Both seem to have a life of their own.  “I do not need you to find them. They have already been found and dealt with, Magnus Bane. There is nothing you can offer me.”

“My life,” Magnus sputters without thinking. He’s not even sorry he’s said it, that’s what makes him want to laugh. He’s willing to give up his own immortality for this stupid boy. “You can take my-“

The Queen’s eyes turn a darker shade of black, something Magnus hadn’t thought was possible. The air around them changes; becomes colder. “Love will ripen him. And then he will rot. That is what his kind does best.”

Magnus is not going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she’s won. He smiles as bright as he possibly can. The only thing holding him together is the weight of the body he’s holding. “Thank you for your amiability, my lady.”

She reaches out and Magnus can’t help but take a step back. She laughs at that and reaches out again, this time getting a hold of one of Alexander’s dangling feet. “I hope you’ll grace me with your presence again.”

“Soon,” Magnus says, smile faltering. “Enjoy the new year celebrations.”

The Queen turns away from them then. Even though Magnus can’t see her face, he knows she’s smiling. “Oh, I will.”

Magnus watches her walk all the way to the pond, where she steps into the dark water and disappears without so much as a glance at them.

***

Jonathan is waiting for them at the top of the stairs. Magnus sighs as he forces himself to climb the last steps, making sure Alexander is still asleep as he does it. It’s late and Izzy is nowhere to be seen. Each step he takes makes his stomach clench tighter.

Surprisingly, Jonathan doesn’t say anything when Magnus reaches the top of the stairs. He even waits for Magnus to speak first. “Jonathan-“

“Put him in my bed,” he replies in a hushed voice. There is a strain there, as if he has to make a lot of effort not to raise his voice and wake Alexander. “And then we can talk.”

Magnus does as he’s told. Just like a good service dog would, he thinks as he lowers Alexander in Jace’s bed and tucks him in. He steps outside of the room without looking at the kid again. It’s easier that way.

He has barely managed to close the door behind him when Jonathan’s arm is on his throat, pushing him against the locked door. His air supply is cut off for a second and then Jonathan reduces the pressure until Magnus can barely feel it. If he wanted to he could send Jonathan flying to the end of the room, he could make him faint, or he could really hurt him. But Magnus knows this is just a consequence of his own actions and for that he needs to take responsibility.

“You took him to see her,” he practically spits in Magnus’s face. “And she didn’t even change him back. You put him in danger for nothing!”

Magnus tries to get the air back in his lungs. “She said she will. He’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Jonathan’s arm disappears from his neck. He stands there, still livid, hating Magnus with every bit of his soul. When Magnus has finally caught his breath and stretched his back, he looks up to find Jonathan staring at him like he’s nothing more than a cockroach.

“You won’t see him anymore, do you understand? I don’t care if this fucked up situation has you nostalgic. You can’t and won’t fuck him over like you did ever again.” Jonathan doesn’t look too threatening anymore, just tired. He looks like all he wants is to go to sleep and put this behind him. Put Magnus behind him.

Magnus smiles, says, “I don’t think Alexander will want to see me either. It’s for the best.”

It’s not like Alexander didn’t fuck him over. It’s not like Magnus spent the first two weeks after their breakup barely eating and barely sleeping. It’s not like Magnus got hurt, too.

“I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure, but it hasn’t.”

“Magnus,” Jonathan says suddenly. It’s the first time Magnus has heard him use his name. This shocks Jonathan as well, who doesn’t seem to have thought it through. “You were good together. And then you were not. It has nothing to do with-“

With you being a warlock and Alexander being a Shadowhunter.

“I know,” Magnus cuts him off, doesn’t feel like listening to the rest of his explanation. “I know that.” He’s always known that, too. Love is there until it isn’t.

“Alec can’t go through that again.”

Magnus smiles once more. “I don’t want him to.”

He turns around and goes downstairs in a heartbeat, where he can finally make a portal to go back home. But not before he has seen that look on Jonathan’s face. The kind of look that says _you’re lying, you don’t really think that._ Magnus steps into the darkness and tells himself it’s for the best. Love is there one second and the next it’s gone. There’s nothing to be done about it.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to Love is a laserquest by the Arctic Monkeys, so you should check it out.


End file.
